All I See Is Red
by Spadework2
Summary: Collab with Kongu123. Sequel to 'It's Not Easy Wearing Red.' Apollo's father just wanted to protect his family and live a normal life. But now he's returning to a deadly world he left behind with two members of the law after him. How did it go so wrong?
1. Prologue

All I See Is Red.  
>A collaborative story by Spadework2 &amp; Kongu123<p>

**Warning: For new readers, it is _highly_ recommended that you read 'It's Not Easy Wearing Red' first**

Chapter 1: Of Bar Fights and Bad Drinks

Disclaimer: Apollo Justice, Ace Attorney, and all related characters, situations, logos, ect, belong to Capcom. The Original Characters who are portrayed in this fiction are technically intellectual property of Spadework2 and Kongu123. Any attempts to say otherwise will be met with Kristoph Gavin appearing and sawing your legs off.

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January 2027

Los Angeles had a thriving nightlife, leaving parts of the city bright and clear for the parties and the good times, while other parts of the city remained dark for things which were best not seen. Each place had it's denizens, but none of them belonged to the red clad attorney who marched purposefully toward his goal.

Apollo Justice felt that he had a long night ahead of him. It was already nearly eleven, and he was about to go demand a story from a bunch of Ex-Gangsters. The thought had occurred that they might not particularly care about what he wanted, but he was determined to learn more about his father than he could possibly get from his evasive mother.

As he walked down the sidewalk toward the Freedom Bar, Apollo began to think about the possibility that nobody would know the rest of the story except for his mother.  
>'<em>If that's the case, I'll just have to go research it myself. I know his name, and his affiliation with the Collins Crew. There has got to be someone who knows something about him...'<em>

The flashing red sign of the Freedom Bar was soon directly above Apollo's head, he raised his hand ready to pull open the door and walk into what used to be his fathers life. As his hand clenched the handle,  
>'<em>Do I really want to know about what my father did? He obviously died, is that why she couldn't tell me the rest?'<em>

Apollo opened the door.

The Freedom bar was a name that did not suit it's interior. The place was stuffed with so many tables and chairs, that Apollo might as well dance across the tables to the bar. As he was about to attempt to get over the obstacles, a man standing hidden next to the door stirred, "You might want to come back later. We are closing, da?" Apollo turned around to see a man in a red suit stare at him from red rimmed eyes, a bottle of vodka in the crook of his arm.

Apollo glared at the bouncer, "You're Vlad."

Vlad nodded with a lopsided grin, "That is my name. And you are the little punk who came in earlier to harass Phil."

Apollo snorted, "That's the guy who said he was 'Uncle', right?"

Vlad nodded, "Da, he's behind the bar, putting the place to bed. Whatever you're here for, be quick about it, little boy."

The young attorney snorted again, and made his way to the bar. He was so single minded in his purpose that he didn't notice Vlad walk around the mass of furniture to keep an eye on him, or how Vlad nodded to one of the other workers, who helped keep an eye on the obviously disgruntled attorney.

Apollo got to the bar, "Phil? Uncle? Whatever the hell you call yourself? Get over here!" Right in front of his eyes, the older man appeared from beneath the bar, a barely tolerant expression on his face, "Right, lad, why don't you keep your noise down? I don't mind talking to you, but we should do it tomorrow..."

Apollo glared at him incredulously, "You guys are a bar! Why are you closing before midnight?"

Phil shrugged, "It would be too slow on a Sunday night. I've got better things to do than to nurture the few drunks that would come in till 3 in the morning..."

Apollo nodded, "Fine. I need to talk to you."

Phil chuckled tolerantly, and put some glasses on the bar and began to clean them, "Right then. I suppose that your mother has told you some things about that marvelous dad of yours?"

Apollo glanced away, "Yes."

Phil paused in cleaning the glass, looking at Apollo over his sunglasses, "Didn't like what your heard?"

Apollo sighed, "I... don't know what I think. Mom said that he was a good person, but all those things he did... I don't know what to think about that..."

Phil chuckled darkly, "I suppose I can see that. But I'm biased, seeing as how I knew him since he was practically a little ankle biter."

Apollo looked up, "You knew him his whole life?"

Phil nodded, "Of course. Didn't your mother tell you that?"

Apollo remained silent, and Phil went back to cleaning the glass, "I see, so you want me to fill in the blanks of your mothers story? Fine... ask what questions you want. I'll answer if I'm able."

Apollo glared at the older man, "I want you to tell me everything that happened after you reopened this bar."

Phil once again stopped cleaning the glass, and this time he looked confused, "What? Everything? Didn't Thal... didn't she tell you?" Apollo shook his head, and Phil shrugged, "Then I'm not stupid enough to talk. You want to know, wait until she's ready."

Apollo slammed the bar, sending several of the glasses toppling back over, "Don't you see? She's never going to be ready! She said she wouldn't _ever _tell me!"

Phil glared at him over the bar, obviously mad about his glasses, "Then you best make your peace! I'm not stupid enough to go over your Mother. Especially if her punches still sting like they used to." Phil pushed his sunglasses up his nose, letting them shine, "I believe we have exhausted the possibilities of this conversation, lad. Be off with you..."

Apollo got off the stool, still facing the bartender, "I'm not finished with you. Or with this story. I want to know everything..." Apollo turned and looked around, finally settling his intense gaze on the nearest chair, "What is this furniture made of?"

Phil narrowed his eyes, "It's solid oak. Why do you car- SHIT!" Apollo rapidly picked up the nearest chair and threw it at the older man. Phil ducked quickly, but he was not quick enough to grab the chair and save the thousands of dollars worth of wines that was on display behind him. Phil glanced at the damage as if he refused to believe it had actually happened.

The bartender turned to meet his attacker, sliding himself over the bar, "I see how it is! Beat the story outta me, why don't you?"

Apollo snarled, "Is that an invitation?" Like he had done to his mentor the first day he had met him, Apollo threw a solid punch at Phil. Phil, unfortunately, was much older than Phoenix Wright. Despite his hard life and exceptional physical condition for his age, he was not quick enough to dodge the blow, or strong enough to remain standing after it connected with his face, smashing his sunglasses.

As Phil crumpled from Apollo's adrenaline powered blow, The attorney began to shake with rage, "Think you can just refuse to tell me stuff? These people abandoned me to live alone for almost my entire life! You fucking owe me-" Apollo's speech was cut short as Vlad, who had snuck unseen behind him, swung his vodka glass onto Apollo's head, knocking him out cold. The young attorney crumpled next to Phil who was struggling to sit up, rubbing his face.

Jeremiah and Vlad walked up and held their hands out to him, but Phil waved them away and got himself up. Jeremiah grinned, "Jesus, you really _are _getting old..."

Phil glowered at him, "Shut the hell up."

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Apollo awoke as cold water splashed against his face, wetting his hair down as well as his suit. He weakly began to sit up, and was forced back down by a hard object. He focused his vision on the large wooden club that was held against his chest. He followed his own gaze until he saw Phil, who was looking back at the young attorney.

"You smashed my bar. And you smashed my sunglasses. Not to mention that you left a mark on my handsome face." The bartender leaned forward, "You owe me 2,489 dollars sunshine."

Apollo snorted, "I assume this is where you tell me you're going to beat it out of me? Go ahead."

Phil's eyebrow shot up, and he looked at Jeremiah, who was holding the bucket which had served as Apollo's alarm clock. Jeremiah shrugged, and Phil rolled his eyes, pulling up the club and resting it on his shoulder, "Did she say why she wouldn't talk to you about it?"

Apollo began to sit up, "What do you mean?" said Apollo while rubbing the top his head and trying to reclaim some clarity in his mind. Phil looked at him for a moment, before Apollo remembered, "Oh, she said it made her sad and she wasn't strong enough and stuff like that before she left."

The bartender remained silent for a moment, then, "What happened to her? These last couple of years. Do you know?"

Apollo nodded, and began to relate the events where he had met the famous singer Lamiroir, and the ensuing murder trial. Then he talked about her revealing that she was not only Thalassa Gramarye, but his mother, "Then I came here. You made some comments about my suit, and I went back to ask her about my father. Now I'm back."

Phil remained silent for a moment, absorbing all the information that Apollo had told him. Finally he sighed, "Jeremiah, go get us some chairs. My back is beginning to kill me."

Jeremiah grinned, "You got it, old timer."

The ex-gangster disappeared down the stairs, while Phil sighed, "God, I _am _getting old. So old that kids of men I used to know are demanding bedtime stories."

Apollo was about to utter a retort, when Phil smiled, "Don't take it personally, lad. I insult people. It's fun." Jeremiah returned with two chairs, and Phil gratefully sat down, with Apollo opposite of him. The older man took out a cigar and lit it, leaving it in his mouth and sitting back, "Now then, what was the last thing your mother told you?"

Apollo folded his arms, "Why did you change your mind?"

Phil's eyebrow shot up, "I'm handing you what you asked for on a silver platter, and you're questioning it?"

The attorney nodded, "I'm not used to having things _handed_ to me. I question everything." Phil stared at him, and Apollo continued, "I didn't have anybody come up and drag me out of the mire when I was a kid. I had to dig myself out. Gavin didn't help me, my school didn't help me. Hell, even Wright doesn't help me."

Phil began to chuckle, "I see. That explains... a lot of things." Phil seemed to squint at him for a moment, "You have some things in common with your father, but you're not very much like him."

Apollo shrugged, "Honestly, I think that's a good thing."

The bartender exhaled, and then put the cigar back in his mouth, "Can't argue with that. I assume you make an honest living. You know, that reminds me..." Phil sat forward, his eyes boring into Apollo's, "What _do _you do for a living?"

Apollo stiffened for a moment, then answered, "I'm a defense attorney."

Phil stared at him for a moment in shock, his cigar falling out of his mouth. Then he burst into helpless laughter. He gripped the arms of his chair, howling with mirth. He made such a commotion that Jeremiah and Vlad popped their heads into the room, clearly alarmed.

Vlad indicated Phil with a nod of his head, "What did you say? We don't want him to have a heart attack and die..."

Apollo shrugged, "I told him that I'm a lawyer."

Jeremiah began to chuckle, and Vlad snorted, "Figures. Small boy joins the good fight... on the wrong side."

Apollo stood up, "The law isn't the wrong side. Yes, they've made mistakes, but we're fixing them." Jeremiah nodded, "That's somewhat true. I heard about them using a jury. But I guess it was just a test."

Apollo nodded, "The Misham Case. Vera Misham was arrested for the murder of her father. She was named Not Guilty by the jury, because there was evidence that he was in fact killed by Kristoph Gavin."

Vlad narrowed his eyes, "How do you know so much about it?"

The young defense attorney grinned, "Because I was the defense attorney in that case."

Phil finally recovered, sitting back in his chair, "Good, your father would have liked that. Helping the law get back on the straight and narrow. Even then, I'm sure he would have been happy if you enjoy what you are doing and are safe..." The bartender began to polish his club, looking up thoughtfully, "Regardless, I changed my mind because... you're argument moved me."

Apollo's eyebrow shot up, "My argument?"

Phil nodded, "The whole 'I've been abandoned' thing. You're right, she does owe you the explanation. However," The older man leaned forward, "I want to ask you what you plan to do with her."

Apollo leaned back, "What do you mean?"

Phil spread his hands, "I have an explanation for why your parents weren't there for you. So, are you going to use it as an excuse to abandon them?" Apollo's mouth dropped open, then he looked away, "I don't know what I'm going to do. It's still all so new."

Phil leaned back, "Before I begin I just want to ask you, are you going to reject the chance for having a real family because you want to hate them?" Apollo remained silent, and Phil smiled, "You don't have to answer me, lad. Just food for thought."

Phil lit another cigar, exhaled, then leaned back and relaxed, "Now, we had just opened the Freedom bar. Let's see..."

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_Kristoph Shorts return in 'My Bloody Valentine.'_

_Ema: Hey, Gavin, why did you send me a valentine?  
>Klavier: As much as I would love to take credit, Fraulein, I'm afraid I have not put my valentine for you in the mail yet.<br>Ema: Huh. It says 'Gavin' on it. It's a package too. I wonder what's in it.  
>Klavier: Let me see the return addres- DON'T OPEN IT! *Grabs package*<br>Ema: Fop! Give it back!  
>Klavier: It's from Kristoph, and you should never trust anything he sends! *Opens package*<br>Ema: What is it?  
>Klavier: *sickly* "Dear Ms. Skye. I heard you like forensics, so I sent you the head of my roommate..." <em>

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And so it begins, again. Don't worry guys, it will get better. Thanks for reading, and be sure to leave a review. Thanks!

His eyes glued to the review screen,  
>~ Kongu123<p>

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And the second part to this saga begins. Hope you guys are prepared to see this through. Not sure we are... just kidding.

For some reason has started to play the original Silent Hill again,  
>~ Spadework2<p> 


	2. A New Direction

Chapter 2: A New Direction

**Disclaimer: Apollo Justice, Ace Attorney, and all related characters, situations, logos, ect, belong to Capcom. The Original Characters who are portrayed in this fiction are technically intellectual property of Spadework2 and Kongu123.**

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"_We soon opened the Freedom bar, and Damn, was that place popular. We had old friends coming in, and old enemies. With all our success, we got to become pretty darn rich. Of course, despite our great drinks and friendly atmosphere, that wasn't the reason people came. Our connections with the underworld of L.A. allowed us to serve our customers with something more than a drink... we could give them information. And I'm sure you can guess who was in charge of making sure of their satisfaction..._

_Your dad sure had his hands full during that time..."_

May 2004

Phil measured out the vodka precisely, finally stopping when the mixture reached the brim of the glass. Nodding in satisfaction, he turned around, "Finally! Here is the new and improved Long Island Iced Tea 2.0!"

Damion looked at the drink in skepticism, "2.0? It looks the same as all of your other drinks..."

Phil threw up his arms, "Oi! Shut your pie hole and just drink the damn thing!" Damion rolled his eyes and picked up the drink. After looking at for a moment, then at Phil's expectant form. He gave one final look at the drink and brought it to his mouth, taking in a gulp.

Vlad and Jeremiah watched from nearby tables, and Phil watched as if his life hinged on the outcome of his drink. Damion set down the glass, and swallowed, "It's... not perfect. But it is _much_ better..."

Phil slammed the bar with his gloved hands and then threw them into the air in exultation, "Hallelujah! He didn't spit it out!"

Vlad and Jeremiah clapped sarcastically, while various patrons around the bar looked at the crazy looking bartender. Damion held up his hands in a placating gesture, "Phil, calm down. You're going to scare off our customers..."

Phil shrugged, "They'll get used to it. You guys did..." Damion shook his head, and Vlad and Jeremiah went back to their jobs.

Damion got up and began to walk around the bar, "Phil, I think we should have someone else be the bartender. I already said that I want you to help me manage this place."

The older man snorted, "Ha! You can manage this place by yourself. You don't need any help from me..."

Damion's shoulders slumped, "I've been managing this place for the last couple of months, but I need to be with Thalassa now. I won't have as much time to work. I'm going to have to help take care of him."

Phil shrugged, "Bring the tyke here."

Damion raised his eyebrows, "So he can learn how to mix drinks from you? No..." He entered the bar, and began to rummage through the equipment, "I'm going to keep him uninvolved. Keep him safe."

Phil sighed, "How disappointing that you are going to leave us here to wallow in poverty and despair."

Damion rolled his eyes, "Phil, you're richer than _I_ am. Even if the bar goes under, you'll still have enough to live nicely for the rest of your life."

The bartender shrugged, "Eh, those are just details. If you want to keep your kid outta here... that's probably a good idea."

Damion held up his glass, "To children, may they always bring out the best in us."

Vlad took a tray from the side, "If taking out a corrupt crime boss while grieving over the death of our family isn't your best, I'm kind scared of what your best might be..."

Damion was about to answer when the bell that indicated the door was opening. The two Ex-Gangsters turned their heads. Damion's hair drooped a little, and Phil suddenly looked worried.

The miracle of life is such as it allows women across the world to bear many things: pregnancy, the scorn of other women, the rejection of men, and still act happy and upbeat. For many women, these things had no impact on them whatsoever, or they had the will to deal with it.

Thalassa was not one of those women.

About three months into her pregnancy, Thalassa's moods had started to take a turn for the worst. At first, Damion had been convinced that by being sympathetic and supportive, he could make her calm down. When that didn't work, he began to take longer shifts at the bar. Because of her hindrance in movement, Thalassa was content to rage alone while Damion was at work, then the two could act like a couple when they were together.

However, over the last month, her rages had gotten to the point where she somehow made it to the Freedom bar to throw things at her lover. Damion also made it a point of coming to work with an escape route prepared. He was utterly prepared to swear himself to celibacy if it meant that Thalassa would return to normal.

That was the thought that was going through his mind when Thalassa came storming through the front door of the Freedom bar. Phil glanced in her direction, then quickly began rummaging in the bar, "You best be running for your life." Damion was about to leap over the bar in a grand display of flight when he saw Thalassa's expression.

She looked worried.

Damion calmly walked around the bar, "Thalassa? What are you doing here?"

Thalassa walked over, "We have a problem."

Damion tensed, "What kind of problem? Did somebody try to rob the apartment? Did somebody threaten you? Did..." His expression became worried, "Did something happen to the baby?"

Thalassa's face turned from worried to irritated, "Oh, calm down. There's nothing wrong with the baby. I wouldn't have left home if that were the case..." Her worried expression returned, "I... got word that my father is looking for me, and that he found out where we live."

Damion sighed, "All right. We'll move, then. We have the money to get a fancier place anyway." Thalassa beamed, "Really? Well, I had some ideas-"

Damion held up his hand to forestall her, "How did you get word that your dad found you?"

Thalassa shrugged, "A friend of mine that works for him, came over to talk to me."

The Ex-Gangster considered this for a moment, then nodded, "Regardless, I want you to stay here until we move. That way, they don't know where we are going." Thalassa looked like she was going to protest. Violently. Then, she appeared to think better of it, and without another word, went up to the bar.

Phil appeared with a smile, "Thalassa! What a wonder to see you! What can I get you to drink?"

Thalassa smiled, "Water."

Phil's smile turned to a frown, "Water? That's it?"

Thalassa's smile turned chilly, "Yes. Water. You know what _water _is, don't you? I'm not in the mood for one of your concoctions, even if it doesn't have alcohol."

Phil's jaw dropped, "B-But I've been practicing! Damion tell her..." He looked at Damion who was shaking his head, and Phil groaned in despair.

Damion turned to his girlfriend, "Thal, I'm going to go to the apartment and get some stuff."

Thal glanced back at the entrance, "No need. I asked Vlad to get my luggage."

Damion's eyebrow shot up, "You _knew_ I was going to ask you to stay here?"

Thal grinned impishly, "Yup. You're awfully predictable, dear."

Damion was going to protest, but thought better of it, "I'll go help Vlad."

Thal smiled, "You do that."

Muttering under his breath about women and luggage, he strode toward the door until Vlad made his way through it. The massive Russian was dragging what appeared to be a large trunk. He was out of breath, and was straining to fit it through the door.

Damion sighed and glared at Thal, who had a "Who me?" expression on her face, before she returned to her water. Phil looked like he was about to cry, and Damion went over to Vlad, "Hold on Vlad, let me give you a hand."

The Russian looked at him in vexation, "This is all your fault, you know."

Damion rolled his eyes, "So you guys keep reminding me..."

Vlad shook his head, "You are lucky we love her like a sister, because in Russia, if a woman acts like that, we rip the baby out..."

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The Local Precinct

"This story begins on the whisper of a breeze... God this is trash..."

The tall detective threw the book on the floor, where it joined the three other he had bought that morning.  
>'<em>Why the hell did I think that crime novels would be a good idea?<em>'  
>He shook his head in disgust and got up from his desk, stretching to work out the kinks in his muscles.<p>

His eyes found their way to the case file laying open on his desk, apparently forgotten. At the first glance, nobody could figure out that he had read the case file front to back, and was unable to glean anything from the minimal information. The detective picked up the file and left his office, his destination the giant cubicle room where the patrolmen had their offices.

The detective made his way to the 4th floor of the police complex. His eyes searched the office space until he saw the name plaque he was looking for. Making his way through the chaos, he finally got into the cubicle he was looking for, "Patrolman Gumshoe? You in here?"

Gumshoe turned around saluted, "Sir! What can I do for you, Sir?" The detective handed him the case file, "I want you to look at this thing."

Gumshoe obediently took the case file, gave a couple of the pages a once over, and looked at him in confusion, "Am... am I looking for something in particular, Sir?"

The detective ground his teeth, "I was wondering if you noticed, you know, the complete lack of anything resembling an actual crime investigation? This man was _murdered_, and all you seemed to remember that it was gang violence."

Gumshoe remained silent for a moment, then, "But, Sir... It _was_ gang violence. We had witnesses..."

The detective threw his arms into the air, "I don't care if it was gang violence! I get handed this case and was told to solve it! You don't provide a description of the murderer! You don't even know what _Gang_ he's from! It could be goldilocks and the three bears for all I know!"

Gumshoe shrugged, "Not much we can do about it. It's a gang, sir. We only have so much power..." The detective looked like he was having an apoplexy, and he looked as if he was going to kill Gumshoe when a voice from behind him said,

"Calm down, Tenma."

Tenma took a deep breath, "You were the detective on that case, Badd." Tenma turned and confronted him, "Why didn't you investigate more? These guys rule the streets, and we're just going to sit here and do nothing?"

Badd sighed, "I know what you mean. But Gumshoe has a point. There isn't _much_ we can do..." Badd seemed lost in thought for a moment, "Gumshoe."

Gumshoe snapped to attention, "Yes, Detective Badd, sir?"

Badd clapped Tenma on the shoulder, "Take the good detective here out for a _drink_, if you know what I mean."

Gumshoe looked confused for a moment, then understanding lit up his face, "Understood, sir. I'll take care of it right away."

Gumshoe immediately began putting on a worn jacket, and Tenma turned to Badd, "A drink? You think getting drunk will give me an insight into gang violence?"

Badd chuckled, "Trust me. Oh, and order something without alcohol. The bartender is notoriously bad at mixing drinks."

With that, Badd walked off into the chaos. Tenma turned back to Gumshoe, who was saluting again, "Are you ready, Detective Tenma, Sir?"

Tenma smirked reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He placed it between his lips, "That's Detective _Skye_ to you, Patrolman."

Gumshoe scratched his neck nervously, "Er...Yes, Sir."

Tenma and Gumshoe exited the precinct during the lunch rush, so calling a cab was a bad idea. After discussing it for moment, Gumshoe began walking in the direction of their destination. Tenma remained aloof for a moment, then he turned to Gumshoe, "Is it always like this?"

Gumshoe looked confused, "Sir?"

Tenma removed the cigarette from his mouth and blew smoke into the air before continuing forward, "Investigating Gang Related crime. Having to go to secret informants? Is this why it never gets solved? Don't we have a gang investigation division?"

Gumshoe frowned, "Well, sir, it is always like this. Gang crime is on such a scale that they needed to create a division for it..." Gumshoe's face darkened, "But that division has been focusing on gangs for so long that their methods have become questionable..."

Tenma nodded, "I heard about that shootout at Sunshine Coliseum. You were involved in that, right?"

Gumshoe's face went from angry to sad, "Yeah. I was there. Wish I wasn't..." Tenma didn't pry, and the two continued down the street.

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The Freedom Bar

Phil turned around, bearing a small wine bottle that was marked with a golden label, "Here you go. '34, right here."

Manfred von Karma smirked raising up his glass, "Don't dawdle, I have a trial to get to. The guilty aren't going to convict themselves."

Phil filled the glass and set the bottle on the table, grinning, "Things would be nicer if they would, right?"

Von Karma took a sip of the glass, then smirked in satisfaction, "Truly the best. Where do you get this? I must have the name of your supplier."

Phil shifted uncomfortably, "Well..."

Von Karma nodded and gave a knowing smirk, "Ah, yes. I understand." Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out his checkbook, "I have found that money is a powerful motivator for finding information..."

Phil held his hand up in a halting gesture, "That's not the problem. You see, one of the reasons I get such great wines is that my supplier stays secret." Phil sighed, "One of the continued conditions of our business is that he stays secret. If he found out, he'd stop suppliers, and I'd lose customers."

Von Karma looked annoyed for a moment, then shrugged, "Hmmph! Business is business, I suppose."

Suddenly, Von Karma gripped his shoulder, an expression of pain on his face. Phil put down his work, "Are you all right? Whats wrong?"

Von Karma gripped his shoulder for another moment, then relaxed, muttering, "Damn that doctor. His medication still doesn't work..." Von Karma turned back to Phil, shrugging, "An old injury. It still pains me from time to time."

Satisfied, Phil put the bottle away, and Von Karma put a check on the bar, "Thank you for the glass. You shall have my business as long as you have that wine."

Phil gave him an informal salute, "Absolutely. Good luck at your trial."

Von Karma chuckled, "There is no such thing as luck, Phil. Only evidence." With that, Von Karma made his way to the door.

As Von Karma walked out the door, Gumshoe and Tenma walked in with Tenma shooting a small glare at the man leaving. Gumshoe immediately waved at Phil and made his way to the bar. Tenma absorbed the surroundings of the bar for a moment before following Gumshoe, who excitedly sat down at the bar, "How's it going, pal?"

Phil grinned, "Gumshoe, lovely to see you, as always. Scotch on the rocks, right?"

Gumshoe's grin turned to an expression, "Uh, I suppose just a coke. I can't afford anything fancy..."

Phil laughed, "You're a frequent customer. Have one on me."

Gumshoe's grin returned, "Thanks, pal."

Turning to Tenma, Phil spread his hands in a gesture of welcome, "I'm Phil, your guide to delight and fortune here at the Freedom Bar. What can I get for ya?"

Tenma shrugged while stubbing out the butt of his cigarette on the bar. He raised his eyes to meet Phil, "Got any imported beer?"

Phil's smile slumped a little, "Beer? Who drinks beer?" Phil turned to Gumshoe, "Who is this guy?"

Gumshoe gestured to Tenma, "This is Detective Tenma Skye, pal. He just got transferred to homicides, and then he got handed a case related to the Cadaverini's."

Phil's smile disappeared, "You should have said so earlier, Gumshoe. You'll have to wait for Damion, though. He's upstairs with the missus."

Gumshoe took a swig of his drink, "How is Thal?"

Phil's grin returned, "Well..." His reply was cut short by a loud clattering coming from up the stairs. A couple seconds later, Damion calmly walked down the stairs, saw the others, and joined them at the bar. Phil said nothing, but his grin expressed his question.

With his hurt pride in evidence, Damion sat down, "She didn't want my help unpacking." Phil's grin grew wider, and Damion gave him a withering look.

Tenma leaned forward, "Hmm...I guess I'll take a long island iced tea."

Damion leaned over, "I wouldn't..."

Phil's grin turned into a glare, "What do you mean you wouldn't!"

Damion and Phil leaned toward each other for a moment before Tenma leaned in between them, "Could we get to business, please?"

Damion glanced at him, "Who are you?"

Tenma haltingly held out his hand, "Tenma Skye. I'm a detective at the local precinct."

Damion's eyebrow shot up, then he shook Tenma's hand, "Damion. What do you want?"

Tenma looked uncomfortable for a moment, then turned back to the bar, "I need some information concerning a murder that occurred a couple of months ago."

Damion chuckled, "I doubt I'll be much help. Cold cases are cold for a reason, usually."

Tenma chuckled, "Huh. Somehow I knew it would end up that way."

Damion stared at him for a moment, then sighed, "Tell me what happened."

Tenma chuckled, "All right. Victim was suffocated by a plastic bag tied with duct tape. Victim's name wa-"

Damion shook his head, "You won't solve it."

Tenma's eyebrows furrowed in evident anger, "I'm not even finished!"

Damion chuckled darkly, "I don't need to hear the rest. You're describing one of the many hit men of the Cadaverini's. And the Cadaverini's don't have any hit men that _aren't_ careful enough to clean up their own mess."

Tenma stared at him for a moment, then laughed and shook his head, "This was a waste of time. I'll solve this case without your help." With that, Tenma got up and headed towards the door.

Gumshoe turned around and headed after him, "Detective Skye, wait!"

Tenma turned as he strode out the door, "I have to leave anyway Gumshoe, I have to go pick up my daughter from school..." After placing another cigarette in his mouth, he was gone.

Gumshoe turned back to the two Ex-Gangsters, "You really don't think the case will be solved?"

Damion's eyes went hard, "Maybe Gant could. But you guys can't."

Gumshoe sighed sadly, "All right. Thanks for the drink, pal." Then he moved to follow his superior, and was gone.

Phil smiled sadly, "That went well."

Damion sighed, "I feel like that Detective is going to run into a host of problems."

Phil shrugged, "Nothing we can do about it. Now then, about that comment..."

Damion grinned, "I said it was getting better. That doesn't mean you should try selling it to people yet. If you ask me, he had a lucky escape."

Phil pouted, "Hmph. I'll get back to work."

Damion glanced in the general direction of the upstairs, "Hey, Phil... how much do you like your couch?"

Phil paused in working with the machines at the bar, "It's comfortable enough..." He then raised a questioning eyebrow at the nervous, grinning face of Damion. "Why?" he asked in a worried tone.

Damion glanced away uncomfortably, "Well, it looks like that's where you're going to be sleeping for a while."

Phil glared at Damion, his eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses, "Why? What did you do to my bed?"

Damion shifted in his seat uncomfortably, "Well, Thalassa was moving all of her stuff into your room. I tried to have her move into that guest room, but she said something about your bed being better." Phil's glare didn't relent, and Damion continued, "Well, when I told her she didn't have a choice, and that was your room... she kind of threw up on it." Phil stood there for a moment, then purposefully buried his face in his hands. Damion stared at him wide eyed, "Phil? Are you all right?"

Phil looked up at him accusingly, "That bed was the best memory foam on the planet. Do you know how much that bed cost?"

Damion shrunk visibly, "I'm sorry Phil..."

Phil stood up straighter, pointing at Damion like a harbinger of doom, "This is all your fault, you know..."

Damion nodded glumly, "I know, Phil. I accept all responsibility for the fact that women go crazy when they are pregnant."

Phil's glare remained accusatory, but he went back to his work, "You're lucky we love her like a sister."

Damion nodded again, praying fervently that the next month would pass quickly so that he could meet his son, and that Thalassa would return to normal.

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Streets of L.A.

Night time descended on the City of Angels, breeding darkness in the places where those who wished to run away could hide. One man, however, walked the streets with a determined stride in the darkness. Normally, the various cut purses and cutthroats watching the streets would have eaten this man for breakfast. However, something in his stance, his stride, his very essence, made them hesitate, and ultimately leave him alone.

The man visibly checked his watch and stopped outside a building. The kind of building you would walk by and not look twice at. Or even once at. Of course, the people who looked at it more than once usually get followed and killed, so nobody was stupid to even consider what would happen if they actually _stopped_ in front of it.

It was no surprise that after the man stopped, two men in black suits came out, grabbed the man forcibly by the arms and dragged him inside. The interior of the building was remarkably well built, despite it's run down exterior. The two thugs dragged the younger man in between themselves, toward another man in a black suit with a gold pin.

The older man looked the young man up and down, "You look familiar. Did I kill someone you know?"

The younger man grinned, revealing very white teeth, "That's what I'm here to find out."

The older thug shrugged, "Hmph. Whats your name, kid?"

The young man drew himself up, "Diego Armando."

The thug's eyes widened, "Josef's boy?"

Diego nodded, "Yeah. And I want to know who killed him."

The thug considered it for a moment, then nodded, "All right. Let's go see the boss." As soon as he said those words, the two thugs holding Diego increased their grip and forced him up the stairs. The older thug looked back as he walked up, "How did you find us?"

Diego grinned again, "You guys order prostitutes, and you don't think anybody notices?" The older thug grimaced for a moment, then shrugged, urging the other men to go faster.

Soon, they reached what was evidently the top floor. The older thug knocked on the only door, and was admitted inside. After a minute or so, the Man returned, gesturing to Diego, "Inside. Now."

Diego complied, closing the door behind him. He turned around to confront the boss of the Cadaverini's.

Bruto Cadaverini was not an attractive man. He had many moles, and looked prematurely old. Despite this, he had the presence of command, and pain. He studied Diego for a moment, "So, you're Josef's boy. Good man. Did what he was told. I'm sad to see him gone."

Diego snorted, "I'm sure. But I'm not here for your condolences..."

The Thug stepped forward angrily, but Bruto held out his hand, "Calm down, Dmitri. He's just pissed..." Bruto sat back, and gestured at a nearby table, "What you need to know is right there. I've actually been expecting you."

Dmitri recoiled in surprise, "We have?"

Bruto chuckled, "Of course. I figured you were your fathers son. So I obtained the polices reports on the investigation."

Diego walked over to the table, picked up the folder, and began to read, "The investigation didn't go anywhere. The bullets were not registered to any handgun on file, and the killer didn't leave any other evidence."

Bruto nodded, "All true. However," Bruto grinned, "The gun in question did register with us. And that same gun showed up under a different number on public record. It's in the second file." Diego looked down and noticed another file that had been under the first. He set down the police report and picked it up. Bruto's grin went from friendly to malicious, "The person who owns that gun is your fathers murderer. Now you can find this person and avenge your fathers death."

Diego paused while picking up the file, then opened it. His hands shook with anticipation, the hard work of the last year finally paying off. Diego read the file twice, then looked at Bruto,

"Who the hell is this Damion guy?"

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_Random Kristoph Story: Kristoph the Game Night Master_

_Kristoph: "Bored Apollo?"  
>Apollo: "A little, sir."<br>Kristoph: "...How about we play a game?"  
>Apollo: "What kind of game?"<br>Kristoph: "What do you have in mind?"  
>Apollo: "Er...How about operation?"<br>Kristoph: "A fine choice. You sharpen the scalpel, I'll grab a hobo off the street."  
>Apollo: "..." <em>

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Authors Notes:

The plot deepens. Again. Sorry for the long wait. My uncle is moving in with us, so we had a lot of stuff to deal with. Hope you enjoy, and please leave a review.

Hating lack of internet,  
>~Kongu123<p>

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Diego Armando. Did you really think we'd leave him out? And Skye huh? Interesting isn't it?

Fighting the good fight,  
>~Spadework2<p> 


	3. From Riches to Ruins

Chapter 3: From Riches to Ruins

**Disclaimer: Apollo Justice, Ace Attorney, and all related characters, situations, logos, ect, belong to Capcom. The Original Characters who are portrayed in this fiction are technically intellectual property of Spadework2 and Kongu123.**

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_'Everything was going so well. Maybe we were foolish to think it would last for so long. That demons could experience the light without consequences. What...'they' planned was sick beyond all fucking recognition.  
>Yet we walked straight into it...'<em>

June 2004

Tenma Skye walked out of his office in a depressed and irritated manner. His coworkers noticed this and immediately began to make themselves scarce, praying to God that they were not the focus of his irritation. Those people usually had a way of leaving the precinct and never coming back.

Usually, Tenma was not one to lose his cool over a difficult case. Sure, he would be angry at the killer, and maybe his own inability to work out tough puzzles. Not being unreasonable, he did not expect others to overcome their limits if he could not overcome his own.

Tenma found that he only got angry if it was obvious that the other investigators on his team weren't doing their jobs. Then, he would put on his jacket, light a cigarette, then make his way to the offending party and either intimidate them into increasing their performance, or fire them. Unfortunately, he knew that neither of those approaches would solve the problem, and that only made him more angry.

Arriving at his destination, Tenma knocked twice on the door and entered without waiting for an answer. Striding into the room, he exhaled and stamped out his cigarette, "I have a bone to pick with you, Gant."

Damon Gant was looking up from some paperwork, looking mildly irritated, "I guess we all can't be working. What do you want, Skye?"

Tenma folded his arms, "I want to talk to you about this case that I was assigned..."

Gant chuckled, his smile mocking the man in front of him, "Ah, you want help on a case? Stuck on a puzzling suspect? Sit down and let me help..."

Tenma snorted derisively, "I don't want your help. I want you to explain yourself?"

Gant's grin disappeared, and he stared at Tenma for a moment before replying, "...explain myself? How so?"

Tenma grabbed a chair and sat down, "This case they handed me was yours until you handed it down to homicide. What I want to know is whether you're just lazy or incompetent."

Gant rolled his eyes, "Hmm, I wonder which I should pick..." Gant redirected his gaze, staring intensely at the other detective, "I know which case you're referring to. And, out of the goodness of my heart, I will tell why I handed that case and every other case to homicide... because its hopeless."

Tenma's eyes narrowed, "So this is your shit pit, huh? You hand over all those cases you don't want or don't need? And they let you?"

Gant grinned, "Of course they let me. I'm the anti-gang division! I can do what I want!" He chuckled a bit, then he became serious, "Tenma, whenever you get one of these cases, you might as well file 'em away and forget about it."

Tenma chuckled darkly, "File them away? Let them go cold? I wonder how the family of the victim will take that."

Gant shook his head, "I'm not telling you this because I like you... since I don't. I'm telling you this because you don't have the ability or the resources to solve this case." Gant leaned back in his chair, "I have as many resources as I want, and there are still some cases I can't solve." Gant's grin returned, satisfaction radiating his expression, "Nothing personal."

Tenma shook his head, "Just because _you _can't solve it, doesn't mean it can't be solved." Tenma stood up, "While you're sitting here twiddling you thumbs, waiting for these gangs to turn themselves in, I'm going to solve this case."

As Tenma turned to leave, Gant chuckled, "I wouldn't bother."

Tenma glanced behind him, "Why? Because it would tarnish your shiny reputation?"

Gant shook his head, "No, because I'm not just sitting here twiddling my thumbs as you... poetically put it."

Tenma faced the other detective, "What do you mean?"

Gant spread his hands, "Just that I have some operations in motion, operations that will take these gangs down."

"What do you mean?" Tenma repeated even more intensely than before. "Do you have undercover agents or something?"

Gant shrugged, "Well, that's on a need-to-know basis and..." His grin grew malicious, "...You don't need to know."

Tenma remained silent for a moment, "You planned this. You sent me that case because you knew I would come here demanding why you didn't investigate it fully. You just wanted to make me feel like a tool."

Gant clapped, "I think I'll exercise my right to remain silent. Anyway," Gant picked up his pen and began writing, "I have to get this paperwork done. Go back to your case, Skye. I'm busy."

Tenma remained another moment, then he left the office of the other detective.  
>'<em>What kind of operation would take down the gangs in this city? It's almost like he's planning to have them all kil-<em>'.  
>Tenma took out a cigarette, but it remained forgotten and unlit in his mouth, dark thoughts taking precedent over simple pleasures...<p>

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The Freedom Bar

The bar was practically deserted. Being a Monday morning, everyone was at work, depressed over the fact that their work week was beginning all over again. An endless cycle of fun and work that sent people into the downward spirals of life.

Damion was depressed for an entirely different reason.

Recently, Thalassa had actually started to act like her old self again. While she sometimes still had a random mood swing, she had actually been calm, collected, and upbeat during the day. During the evening, she would sleep for long periods of time.

Of course, that had all changed a week ago.

Thalassa had suddenly gone from 'mildly irritated' to 'raging hormones'. Her antics had gone from kicking Damion out of her room to chasing off customers that so much as glanced at her. Phil and the rest of the staff had endured her wrath with clenched teeth and threatening glances in Damion's direction.

Damion had solved his helplessness from the night before by drowning it in alcohol. It wasn't surprising that he was now slumped over the bar, snoring loudly. His peaceful sleep was interrupted when Phil slammed a pair of shot glasses onto the bar, "Wake up, sleeping beauty! You're gonna ruin that pretty hair of yours!"

Damion looked up at Phil accusingly, "You couldn't have shaken my shoulder?"

Phil tapped his chin thoughtfully, "That occurred to me, but then I remembered that you are responsible for the complete ruination of my bed, my workplace experience and my sanity so I decided that this would be more educational."

Damion began to straighten his hair, "Fine, I'm educated. I'm sorry Thalassa is acting insane, but I can't do anything about it. Would you lay off?"

Phil chuckled, "All right. Care for a drink?" Damion glared at him, and Phil rolled his eyes, "'A drink' as in water, not 'a drink' as in alcohol." Damion relented and nodded, the other man gestured at the two shot glasses, which were filled with water.

The ex-gangster rolled his eyes and drank both glasses, instantly feeling much worse. Phil chuckled, "Feeling better? Have some more if you want, because Thalassa wants to know where you've been." Damion groaned, and Phil shook his head, "None of that. Face the music, sunshine. Soon, it will be that kid giving you grief instead of your girl."

Damion sighed, "Yeah. Makes me miss the good old days."

Phil grinned, "Hey, things will only get better. Count on it..." Phil glanced in the general direction of his apartment, "You better get up there." Damion nodded and got up, grasping his forehead when his headache multiplied in pain. When the feeling passed he made his way to the stairs that led to the upper rooms.

Phil's apartment was a lavish set of rooms that included a fine couch, an expensive television, and even an aquarium wall. Damion had grown used to Phil's expensive tastes, but he still thought the aquarium was too much,  
>'<em>It makes this place look like the a villains lair. It wouldn't surprise me if he had piranha's in there...'<em>  
>Damion's thoughts turned to the lone occupant in the room...<p>

Thalassa had taken to resting on the couch during their stay in Phil's apartment. While Damion had found an apartment for them to live in, Thalassa had yet to express any desire to go there. It was assumed that she wanted to wait until she had the baby.

"There you are..." His girlfriend said accusingly, narrowing her eyes on Damion, "Where have been?"

Damion shrugged, "In the wonderful world of insensibility. Phil said you wanted to see me? I'm at your disposal..." Damion gave a mock bow and Thalassa rolled her eyes, "Insensibility, huh? I'm not _that_ unbearable."

Damion once again shrugged, "What did you need?"

Thalassa's annoyance seemed to evaporate, "I... just want you to sit up here and talk to me for a while."

Damion's eyebrow shot up, "About what?"

Thalassa shrugged, "Anything. I just want sit here and talk about... stuff."

Damion ran his hand through his hair and made to take a seat on the chair next to the couch. Thalassa's eyes narrowed again, "Not there. On the couch."

Damion chuckled at her expression and sat down on the couch, sitting opposite of his girlfriend, "So... uh... what's up?"

Thalassa snorted, "My blood pressure probably."

Damion sat there for another moment, then spread his hands, "Are you sure you didn't want to talk about something specific?"

Thalassa sighed, "Damion, I..." She leaned back, exhaling explosively, "We haven't... you know... just _talked_ in forever." She gestured at Damion, "You've been busy trying to manage this damn club, and I've..." she glanced darkly at her swollen belly, "I've been otherwise occupied."

Damion nodded, "That's true. Doesn't leave much time for romance or civilized conversations."

Thalassa shrugged, "So... lets talk."

Damion leaned back against the couch and sighed, "Well... Phil said that he ordered a new bed..."

Thalassa's answering glare was chilly, and Damion almost recoiled, "What? That's the most I can think of... and I didn't mention anything about your involvement..."

Thalassa's eyes remained narrowed for a moment, then she relaxed.

The two of them sat there for a while, simply keeping each other company. Eventually, Thalassa sat up, "Damion, I want to go downstairs."

Damion sat up and looked at his girlfriend skeptically, "...downstairs? Like that?"

Thalassa gave him a withering look for a moment and then lifted herself off the couch, "Yes, Damion. I will go downstairs, like that!" She made her way to the stairs an began to descend carefully, while Damion followed directly behind her, in case she needed help.

As the two of them made their way down the stairs, Vlad noticed them and spread his hands in welcome, "At last, customers. Can you believe that no one is here? In Russia, this place would be crawling on a Monday morning."

Thalassa snorted, "Vlad, just because you use liquor to deal with Mondays does not mean that everyone else does."

Damion smirked, "Vlad, how much have you had to drink today?"

Vlad looked confused, "A couple shots. Why?"

Thalassa rolled her eyes, "Because you look as drunk as a nun."

Vlad shrugged, "I have built up resistance over 38 years, yes? As wonderful as it is, Vodka doesn't have the same kick as it used to..."

Thalassa ground her teeth, "Vlad, when you drink lots of liquor, you get worse, you don't get better..."

Vlad shrugged, "Russian livers are made of steel. American livers are made of butter."

As Thalassa was about to reply, she suddenly gripped here swollen abdomen, her face deathly white, "Damion..."

Damion immediately gripped her arm, "What is it, whats wrong?"

Thalassa turned to him, "I think I'm having a contraction..."

Damion nodded, "All right, I'll go get the bag... wait, did you say you were having a contraction..." Damion's calm demeanor disappeared as comprehension dawned on his face, "A contraction! You mean you're going to have the- the..." The ex-gangster released his girlfriends arm and raced back up the stairs, "Gotta get the bag! Gotta get to the hospital!"

Thalassa stared in confusion after her boyfriend, "Whats wrong with him? I'm the one in pain!"

Vlad took her arm, "Men usually lose all sanity when they find out their wife is in labor."

Thalassa began to breath strangely, while Phil swung some keys around his finger, "I'll go get his car. We'll get you to the hospital before the baby arrives... or before Damion has a heart attack."

Damion suddenly appeared down the stairs, his eyes startlingly devoid of anything remotely resembling rational thought. He ran at breakneck past his wife and friends toward the front door, "Gotta get to the hospital!" He crashed his way out the door and into the street.

Phil shook his head, "Idiot has gone off the deep end. I'll go get him." The bartender made his way out the door. As Vlad was carefully supporting Thalassa and heading out to the car, they both stopped when they heard Phil shouting, "Hey Apollo! What the bloody hell do you think- HEY! YOU FORGOT YOUR WIFE YOU BUM RAG!" Phil came back nervously scratching the back of his head. "We may have an insey bitsey little small major big fucking problem. He drove off." Phil then raised both of his thumbs. "Other than that, it's all going according to plan..."

Thalassa groaned while Vlad guided her on, "Come on, my young friend. You do not need him to have a baby. We can take the van."

Thalassa glared at him, "The van? You mean your dirty smelly van?"

Vlad shrugged, "Your beloved has run off with his car, and you seriously don't believe that Phil will risk you having the baby in his car, do you?"

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Vlad drove, while Thalassa moaned in pain in the back seat. Phil sat in the front seat, grumbling. "Really? He really drove off in his car _without_ the girl who actually needs to go to the hospital? Jesus wept..."

Vlad shrugged, "What? He is like every other man on the planet. Did you really think he would act rationally when the pain began?"

Phil snorted, "The lad's not really the king of rationality to begin with."

Vlad's eyebrow shot up, "Are we talking about the same man? This is the boy who knew all that crap about Greek gods and who had the good sense to find the only woman in L.A with the guts to be a gangster."

Phil grinned, "This is also the lad who had the bad sense to have sex with said woman in a sewer pi- gaaaaahhh!"

Phil's comment was dragged off as Thalassa reached from the back seat to put the bartender in a choke hold, "Is that 'never mentioning it again'?"

Phil gasped, "I'm sorry! I'll never mention it again! I swea- gaak!"

Vlad shook his head, "You have about as much good sense as he does right now. Anyway, I called Jeremiah, before we left, so he will meet us at the hospital."

Phil replied with a groan of relief as Thalassa released him from her choke hold. She kept breathing rapidly as Phil rubbed his neck, "Damn it, if you weren't about to have children..."

Vlad suddenly looked worried, "Phil, why is everybody around us driving black SUV's?"

Phil looked at him, "What do you mean? I'm sure that... wait..." Phil noticed what Vlad was referring to. Four large black SUV's were gaining on them from behind. Phil turned to the driver, "Get off the highway. NOW!"

Vlad snarled, "They are up front as well! Hold on!"

Phil immediately pulled out a handgun from his jacket, "I don't recognize them? Are they Cads?" Vlad twisted the wheel, but was pushed into the box the SUV's were forming.

Thalassa cried, "What's going on? Whats happening?" Vlad tried to push the van out of the box, but as soon as he began to turn, the lead SUV slammed it's brakes, effectively stopping the van.

Upon impact, Thalassa managed to brace herself and stay safely in her seat. Unfortunately, the crash did horrendous damage to the windshield, knocking both Phil and Vlad unconscious. "Vlad? Phil? Are you guys okay?" Neither of them responded, and Thalassa began to shake them, "Guys? Wake up! Whats going on?"

She was so focused on them that she was too late to notice the men in dark suits open the van door. As this fact registered for her, she tried to fight, to escape. She even tried to scream.

But the sweet smelling cloth they put over her mouth didn't even let her do that...

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Unknown Location

A bright light turning on woke Thalassa. As she tried to cover her face with one of her hands, she realized that her hand was bound. Thalassa immediately began to struggle, but the drugs they gave her to make her sleep had taken her strength. As she struggled, the young mother realized that something else was missing.

Thalassa's struggles with her bonds grew more pronounced and desperate,  
>'<em>My baby? WHERE IS MY BABY?'<em>  
>As she knew she was about to come close to breaking her bonds, a man in scrubs came up and plunged a needle into an I.V. she hadn't noticed before. As whatever was in the syringe took effect, her strength left her, and she began to cry silently.<p>

The doctor sighed, "I don't know what you did to earn the enmity of these guys, but it must have been pretty bad to make them want to kidnap you, and your kid."

Thalassa turned to the man, "Where is my baby you sick bastard?"

The doctor sighed again, and began checking the monitors near Thalassa's bed., "These guys know some retired nurses who don't ask questions. Kind of like they know doctors who don't ask questions." The man turned to Thalassa, "Your child's fine. It's a boy, eight pounds, fourteen ounces. He's in the best care that's possible at the moment."

Thalassa tried to struggle again, but failed. She looked accusingly at the doctor, "Who did this to me?"

As the doctor opened his mouth to answer, a voice from behind the bed said, "You aren't _really _going to answer that question, are you Meraktis?"

Meraktis sighed, "No, I guess I'm not..." The doctor looked guiltily at Thalassa, "I'm afraid you're on your own for this one." The doctor turned back to the voice, "She's stable, but I wouldn't recommend doing anything... extreme."

A dark chuckle emanated from the corner, "I'm sure you would recommend doing that for anyone in our custody."

The doctor shrugged, "I won't deny it."

After a moment of silence, "Goodbye, Meraktis. One of our agents will drive you home."

The doctor took one last look at Thalassa, then he grabbed a bag off the a nearby table and quietly walked into the darkness, the sound of a door opening and closing marking his departure.

Thalassa glanced in the direction of the voice, "What the hell do you want with me? And where is my baby?"

Another dark chuckle, "Oh, don't worry about your baby. He's in the care of some elderly old women of my acquaintance. I have no doubt that he will be well cared for during your stay."

Thalassa snarled, "My stay? What do you want with me? Who are you?" The voice remained silent for a moment, then she heard footsteps approach from the dark corner. A man in a black suit came to the edge of the light. Thalassa strained to see the head of the man, but it was disguised by shadows.

The man straightened his tie, "I'm someone you trusted once. But I doubt that will be the case after today's events. As for what we want for you, I'm waiting for my associate to arrive and explain." After that, the man fell silent, and Thalassa chose not to fish for information and instead try to get out of her bonds. As she worked on them, the man chuckled again, "Your arms will be so raw and bloody when you finally break those that you will die from blood loss. Just be patient, Thal."

Thalassa looked at the man in annoyance, "Who are you?"

The man shrugged again, "Just a man who decided to take things to the next level, and found out the next level was down." The man stepped forward the light illuminating his face.

Thalassa's jaw dropped, "Romeo?"

Romeo sighed, "Yeah. I'd ask how you're doing, but that seems kind of a silly question to ask right now."

Thalassa sputtered in confusion, "Why? Why did you- how could you-" Romeo held up his hand in a gesture of silence, "All in good time."

Thalassa struggled against her bonds and tried her best to sit up, "That time is now, you bastard! Why did you kidnap me and my baby? What happened to Vlad and Phil? What do you want!" Before Romeo could say anything, the door that Meraktis left through opened again. Thalassa caught a glimpse of an orange suit before the door closed again.

The man in orange reappeared in the range of the light. He turned to Romeo, "Everything going smoothly so far?"

Romeo shrugged, "Everything happened like you said it would. How did you know Damion wouldn't be there?"

The man laughed, "I have my ways..." He said mysteriously.

Thalassa squinted her eyes at the new arrival, "I've seen you before."

The man's eyebrow shot up, "Really? I don't recall... wait, your that pretty magician who made Damion disappear at Sunshine Stadium." He straightened his tie, "That was incredibly inconvenient, you know. That operation was a complete failure because you guys failed to surrender."

Thalassa snorted, "That didn't seem to be a problem with your gunmen."

The man sighed, "I actually kind of regret what happened. Getting one law breaker was not worth killing 30 civilians." His grin turned into a malicious smile, "Too much paperwork." The mans expression turned into one of confusion, "Why isn't she, you know, screaming and howling for our heads?"

Romeo gestured to the I.V, "We gave her a mild sedative. Something to calm her down."

The man smiled, "Huh. This might be fun." His attention turned back to Thalassa, "I'm sure you're wondering why you're here."

Thalassa shook her head trying to fight off the drug, "Not really. I'm not interested in whatever sick game has you kidnapping children."

Romeo sighed, "We're not interested in the kid. Or you, even. What we want is Damion."

The new arrival nodded, "But, that is for another time. Right now, you need to recover from your ordeal."

Thalassa could feel enveloping darkness coming back, and she struggled against it, "Damion is going to find you. Then he's going to kill you both."

Romeo's expression went from aloof to guilty, making Thalassa think that maybe she could convince him to help her.

Her hopes were dashed when she noticed the expression on the other man. The light bounced off his graying hair, making him look insane, his smug smile striking fear into her heart. He leaned forward and whispered into her face.

"I'm counting on it."

Then the light faded, and Thalassa knew no more...

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Random Kristoph Short Story: Finance with Kristoph.  
><em>Apollo: "Er...sir, I'm not sure that I'm completely comfortable with this..."<em>_  
><em>_Kristoph: "Calm down. It'll be fine. This is a completely legal bank transaction."__  
><em>_Apollo: "Then why do I have to wear a ski mask?"__  
><em>_Kristoph: "Because it looks professional..."__  
><em>_Apollo: "...And the revolver?"__  
><em>_Kristoph: "To look authoritative. Now get in there and ro-... 'recover' our money."__  
><em>_Apollo: "Why don't you do it?"__  
><em>_Kristoph: "Because I'm keeping the engine running for the getaway vehicle."__  
><em>_Apollo: "..."_

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Authors Notes:

Cliffhanger. Don't you hate us? You might for the long wait. But it's kinda hard to tell who's reading when no one reviews. They would be appreciated. Anyway, we'll try to get the next chapter out for ya ASAP.

Coughing so hard that he's going to have to deep wash his monitor,  
>~Kongu123<p>

Just looking at the amount of Kristoph shorts me and Kongu have banked for future chapters. It's quite a lot, I'm not gonna lie. Makes me wish I could draw so we could do a short comic or something. Anyway, please review. We always answer. Trust me.

Worried about our sanity after looking at the shorts,  
>~Spadework2<p> 


	4. Freedom Lost

Chapter 4: Freedom Lost

**Disclaimer: Apollo Justice, Ace Attorney, and all related characters, situations, logos, ect, belong to Capcom. The Original Characters who are portrayed in this fiction are technically intellectual property of Spadework2 and Kongu123.**

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"_Thalassa was missing, Vlad and I were injured, and your Dad was left with no leads. It wasn't exactly the best beginning to a rescue effort. However, it was better than nothing, and your dad had a way of putting his rage to good use._

_But he found that in the end, his rage was all he had left..."_

There were numerous police cruisers on the highway. Several of them were attempting to divert traffic onto the one lane that was not taken up by what passed for an investigation. The remaining cruisers surrounded a badly smashed up van. The lone ambulance was filled with two paramedics, and two people they were blocking, one of whom was obviously arguing with them.

It was to the ambulance that Damion was drawn to. As soon as he had made it to the hospital, Damion's panic had subsided and he had realized that he had left Thalassa behind. Jeremiah was already there, and the two began filling out the paperwork. When Thalassa didn't show up, Damion expected the worst and consulted the police scanner in his car.

And when he heard about a van being attacked by a bunch of black SUV's, he immediately started his car and sped to the highway. And now he was headed to the ambulance, where he was going to make sure his friends and his girlfriend were all right.

Damion practically shoved his way through the paramedics, both of whom attempted to get him away. The ex-gangster scanned the interior of the ambulance, and only saw an unconscious Vlad and Phil, who looked grim holding a bloodied compress against his head. Damion fixed his glare on Phil, "Where is she?"

Phil's eyes were downcast, "They... took her."

Damion worked to keep his fury under control, "Who? Was it the Cads?"

Phil shook his head, "They were similar, but it wasn't them. I don't know who they were..." Damion regarded his old mentor for a moment, then he made his way out of the ambulance. He could hear Phil attempting to follow, and being accosted by the bewildered paramedics.

The ex-gangster went to the nearest officer, "Do you guys know who did this?"

The officer held up his hands, "Whoa, kid. This isn't an area for civilians. How the hell did you get inside the perimeter?"

Damion intensified his glare on the patrolman, who flinched slightly, "I won't ask you again. _Who did this_?"

"Did what, pal?"

Damion turned to see Gumshoe, who had apparently just gotten out of his own patrol car. Damion took a deep breath in another attempt to calm himself, and failed, "Somebody took Thalassa."

Gumshoe's jaw dropped, then he turned to the patrolman, "Well? How about it, Ferguson?"

The patrolman Ferguson spread his hands in confusion, "We have no idea! Even the traffic camera's couldn't pick up anything. We think it was gang related..."

Gumshoe rolled his eyes, "A kidnapping on the highway. Of course it's gang related, pal." Gumshoe turned to Damion, "Let's go talk to the anti-gang division, Pal. Maybe they could think of something..." Gumshoe snapped his fingers, "I got it! We'll use the K-9 unit!"

Damion used all of his will power to not throttle Gumshoe, "You can't send a K-9 unit, they _can't track cars_!"

Gumshoe thought about it for a moment, then hung his head, "Oh..."

Damion turned away in disgust and came face to face with Phil, who had somehow escape the paramedics. The older man glanced at Damion's car, then back to his younger friend, "We'll go visit the Cads. They'll know what's going down. They might even know where Thalassa is..."

Damion began walking toward his vehicle, "Do you seriously think they would tell us where she is, if they knew? They don't owe us anything..."

Phil grinned, "We could pay them..." Damion directed his glare toward his friend, and Phil decided not to voice any of his other comments.

As the two of them got to the car, Damion suddenly lifted his fist as hard as he could and smashed it into the hood, created a surprisingly large dent. Phil grabbed his shoulder, "That's not going to bring her back."

The young ex-gangster had tears streaming down his face, "I... I left without her... I could have done something...how could I have been so fucking dum-"

Phil forcibly turned his friend to face him, "Listen to me, that kind of attitude isn't going to get anything done." Damion stared at his friend, and Phil sighed, "Crying isn't going to bring her back either..." Damion continued to stare at him for a moment, then wiped his eyes, sniffing. Phil wordlessly opened the door, and after getting Damion in and shutting the door, got into the car himself.

"Where are we going?" Damion asked, now calm and focused.

Phil nodded to the exit off the highway, "It's in a building in the old quarter. Nobody ever goes there, see..."

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Tenma Skye was glaring in exasperation at the other woman, who was looking at him imperiously over the rims of her glasses, "I know that this a no smoke zone. That's why I won't smoke _after this one_." The woman snorted, and then quickly grabbed his cigarette, plucked it out of his mouth, and crushed it beneath her heel.

Before Tenma could react, the bell rang, and the children began escaping in every conceivable way from the school. The woman lifted her nose back in the air, "Good day, Mr. Skye. I duly hope that your daughters don't pick up your _disgusting _habits." With that, the woman turned on her heel and marched back into the building.

Tenma looked down at his crushed cigarette sourly,  
>'<em>Stupid old crone of a principal...'<em>  
>He remained staring at the rapidly disappearing pile of ashes, he felt his wallet begin the slide from his back pocket. Tenma quickly grabbed the arm holding his wallet and dragged the thief into his field of vision.<p>

Lana Skye was grinning at her father, "Hi dad."

Tenma grunted sourly, "Lana, if you want more money, then _get a job_."

Lana shrugged, "Mom said I can wait until next year, remember?"

Tenma rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah..." Tenma plucked his wallet from his daughters hand and began walking toward his car.

Lana looked up at her father, "So, Dad, are you going back to work after you drop me off?"

Tenma nodded, "Yeah. I have some more paperwork to do."

Lana tugged on the sleeve of his jacket, "Can I come with you, please? I promise I'll do my homework, and I'll be quiet, and I won't bother you-"

Tenma shrugged her off, "You talk too much." He glanced down and observed Lana attempting to look miserable, and he then smiled slightly and sighed, "Fine. But when your mother has an apoplexy, I'm blaming you..."

Lana gave her father a hug, and immediately began a large flurry of thank you's that made Tenma instantly regret his decision. He unlocked his car and got in, Lana tossing her backpack into the back seat and sitting down. As Tenma was pulling out of the school parking lot, Lana turned to him, "So... uh... when you said paperwork, that's not _all_ you'd be doing, right?"

Tenma chuckled, "That's _all_ I'll be doing. Why?" Lana looked somewhat crestfallen, then smiled, "Maybe something will come up! I hope something does..."

Tenma regarded the teenager next to him, "You hope that somebody dies? That's what it would take for me to do anything you might consider exciting..."

Lana glanced at the passing buildings, "Well, how am I suppose to learn the trade unless I see you in action? I need to see you make arrests, talking down tough criminals, stuff like that!"

Tenma sighed, "Lana, most of the time is spent questioning witnesses and doing paperwork. I've told you this a hundred times, ever since you told me you wanted to become a detective. You've even been to work with me a couple times, and you always complain that I'm the most boring detective ever."

The teenager rolled her eyes, "Dad, you _are_ the most boring detective ever." Tenma snorted, but didn't reply. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence until Tenma finally pulled into the precinct parking garage, where Tenma turned to his daughter, "Lana, I hope you understand that you are supposed to be-"

"Seen, not heard... I know dad."

Lana rolled her eyes, and Tenma chuckled, "Just like your mother. I thought I was in too deep when I married that woman. Now I have you..."

Lana smiled, "And Ema. Don't forget about Ema. She will probably be just as crazy as we are."

Tenma shrugged, "Probably. Thank God she's only 4."

The father and daughter left the car and made their way toward the elevator that led up to the actual precinct. As Tenma reached to press the button, the doors opened of their own accord, revealing the large orange form of Damon Gant.

"Skye! What a wonder to see you! Still doing paperwork?" Tenma grunted sourly, not deigning to admit that that was _precisely_ what he was doing. Gant's attention turned to Lana, "Why, hello! I think I'm safe in assuming you're young Lana!" While Lana smiled and introduced herself to the amiable detective, warning bells went off in Tenma's head,  
>'<em>How the hell does he know her name? I've never told him...'<em>

Lana adjusted her backpack, "Are you heading to a case?"

Gant nodded, "That I am. I'm not like your dad. I'm in the Anti-gang division. Well, the lead detective actually. Say..." Gant leaned closer, "You wanted to be a detective, right? Anti-Gang is definitely the most exciting branch. Maybe you could shadow one of my detectives sometime..."

Tenma interposed himself between his daughter and the other man, his face threatening and dangerous, "Don't you have a case?"

Gant stared at him for a moment, then chuckled, "Yes, I'm afraid I do. Good luck on your paperwork, Tenma. As he passed, he winked at Lana, then he made his way into the parking garage.

As Tenma was about to go up the stairs, he felt a swift kick to his leg, causing him to glare angrily at his daughter, who in turn was glaring angrily at him. "What the hell was that for?"

Lana crossed her arms, "He was offering me a job! A chance to shadow at the police station! Do you know how long I've wanted-"

Tenma suddenly leaned close, his expression one of murderous intent, and fear, "Lana. I know you want to become a detective, and... I don't mind that. Your smart enough to do it well. Probably better than I ever have. But I want to make one thing clear to you." Tenma pointed in the direction of Gant's retreating form, "That man is _dangerous_. And before you ask, I can't prove it or anything. But that makes it _worse_. You understand? He will wave and do you favors and when you turn your back for just one moment, he will stab it... with a smile." The detective rubbed his temples for a moment, then turned away, "I don't want you talking to him Lana. At all. You understand?"

Lana looked like she was going to argue, then she nodded glumly, "I don't think he's dangerous..."

Tenma sighed as his right hand began to shake from nicotine withdrawal. He steadied it with his left hand. "Appearances can be deceiving." Was all he said while continuing his trek up the stairs. And with his sullen daughter in two, he made his way up to the precinct to begin his boring evening of paperwork,  
>'<em>I never realized how much I hated my job before...'<em>

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Damion and Phil stood side by side, glaring up at the abandoned looking building. Damion glanced at his friend skeptically, "This is the Cadaverini's headquarters?"

Phil shrugged, "I never said they had good taste..."

Damion returned his gaze to the building, "Wouldn't they have come out by now?"

Phil squinted at the windows, trying to detect movement, "They might recognize us. They might be hesitating in the face of our reputations as kick arse gangsters." Damion regarded his friend skeptically, and Phil grinned, "Or they might be busy laughing their asses off that we bothered showing up here at all..." Damion reached into the vest he was wearing and pulled out an old army revolver, checking it's ammunition. Phil's smile became genuine as opposed to forced, "You still keep that around, huh?"

Damion answered with a smile of his own, "It's like he's still here, watching my back..."

Both of their smile's disappeared when the door to the building opened. A single man in a black suit stepped out, unarmed, "I've been told to tell you that you've been recognized... and that you can come in..." The man was clearly nervous, and he stepped aside almost deferentially. Damion and Phil looked at each other for a moment, nodded, then proceeded up the steps into the building.

The interior of the building was in much better shape than the outdoors. Phil looked round, then glanced at Damion, "Our bar is better."

Damion snorted and followed the Cadaverini up the stairs. After five flights, Phil was breathing heavily, and Damion glanced back, "Need to rest your back, old man?"

Phil's answering glare was poisonous, "Don't patronize me. I'm not that fucking old..."

Damion waited calmly, and finally, the two continued up the stairs and finally came up to the lone door in the entire building. The Cadaverini opened the door and gestured that they should continue without him. The two ex-gangsters walked into the dark room, where the door was shut behind them.

Bruto Cadaverini observed them from a comfortable looking chair nearby the lone window. He smiled and spread his hands in a gesture of welcome, "I've been expecting you."

Damion's calm expression seemed to crack, revealing the seething fury within him, "That's not good... for you. Where's Thalassa?"

Bruto's calm smile turned to confusion, "Who?"

Phil placed a restraining hand on Damion's shoulder, "Why were you expecting us, Bruto?"

Bruto's confusion turned to anger, "He told us you were coming to find Diego Armando..."

Damion's fury was overrode by his confusion, "Who? I've never heard of that name..."

Bruto got up, apparently seething, "What is that idiot playing at? He told me that you were looking for-"

Bruto's monologue was interrupted by a phone ringing on a nearby table. Bruto glared at the phone as if it had just delivered a deadly insult, "Answer the phone Dmitri."

A man in a black suit moved in the shadows and picked up the phone. He remained silent for a moment, then glanced guiltily at Bruto, "Boss... uh... it's for him." He gestured with the phone at Damion.

Bruto looked confused for a moment, then snarled in comprehension, "That's what he wanted." Bruto turned and looked out the window, "Give him the damn phone, Dmitri. Then tell them to get the hell out of my house."

Dmitri nodded and handed the phone to a very confused Damion, who picked it up, "Hello?"

"Damion! How are things on the other side of the law?"

Damion's eyes narrowed in recognition, "_You..."_

Laughter from the other side of the phone, "I assume you know why I'm calling?"

Damion had to work hard to keep from screaming, "Where is Thalassa?"

"Oh, she's safe... So is your boy. Cute little guy. Kept biting the doctor's finger..."

Damion's knees sagged, and Phil had to grab him to keep him from falling, "I'll give you whatever you want. Just... please don't hurt them..."

"Why would I hurt them? You know me, meaningless violence doesn't interest me. Only if it gets me something." Damion remained silent, his fury crumbling into sorrow. "Meet me at the docks. At dock 23-B to be precise. There is a boat docked called _Lawman's Revenge_... that is, if you can read it." A dark chuckle came from the phone. "We'll talk more there about your family's future... and come alone. This is between you and me, after all..."

The other side hung up.

Damion remained on his knees for a moment, then unsteadily began to stand up. Phil was about to say something when Damion interrupted him, "You're not coming."

Phil's eyes narrowed, "You're not seriously thinking of going by yourself, are you?"

Damion looked at his friend with a haunted expression, "I don't have any choice, Phil. He's... much smarter than me." His face became stony, an effort of resolution, "Phil, he wants something from me. I don't know what, but so long as I do it, Thalassa and... my son..." Damion's expression faltered into extreme misery and helplessness for a moment, then his expression returned to stone, "If I bring anyone else, they'll die..."

Phil looked at him for a moment, then sighed, "I'll go make sure Vlad is okay... no, you take the car."

Damion had held out the keys to his friend, but then nodded and made his way out of the room. Phil glanced at Bruto, who was still looking out the window, "Bruto, you said that we were here after some guy named Diego Armando. Who is that?" Bruto glanced back at Phil, his expression unreadable, then he turned back to the window. Phil stared at him for another moment, then made his way out the door.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As Phil closed the door, Diego stepped out from the shadows on the other side of Dmitri, "So the guy with the hair was Damion?"

Bruto glanced back, "That's right."

Diego nodded, "Interesting..."

Dmitri hung up the phone and turned to Bruto, "Boss, do you think we should find somewhere else to call home? I mean, this detective guy knows where we are, now..."

Bruto continued looking out the window, "Yeah, get us moved out. Find somewhere with a view of the ocean..." Dmitri nodded and got on the phone, apparently calling a real estate agent.

Diego turned to Bruto, "Thanks for the info, Bruto. I'll take him out myself."

Bruto glanced back, then smiled, "Suit yourself."

As Diego made his way out of the room, Bruto turned around, "Oh, and Diego?"

Diego turned around, "What?"

Bruto smiled maliciously, "I'll kill you the next time I see you."

Diego's eyebrow shot up, but he didn't reply as he walked out of the room. Diego's own thoughts were attempting to sort the confusion of the many questions he had, such as why Damion had never heard of him before seeing as how he violently murdered his father. He also wanted to know who this mysterious man was that wanted to trap Damion,  
>'<em>Dammit, the murdering bastard is mine. Nobody is going to do anything to him before I get the chance to avenge my fathers death.'<em>  
>Satisfied with his resolution, Diego made his way down the stairs. He checked his cell. Five missed calls from his boss, Grossberg. He sighed,<br>'_But before I begin planning his painful death, I need some coffee..._'

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Lana sighed with boredom as Tenma continued to write out reports on the seemingly endless supply of paperwork on his desk. She had finished her homework an hour after arriving, and now she had nothing to do except watching her father write.

It made Tenma want to burst into laughter.

Lana finally shot up, "Dad, you're not _doing _anything! Is this fighting for justice?"

Tenma didn't bother looking up from his work, "Actually, it is. These reports allow prosecutors to use the evidence we gather in court. Otherwise, criminals could walk free because somebody didn't do their paperwork correctly."

Lana's eyebrow shot up, "But... the evidence is still there! They know he did it. Wouldn't that satisfy a judge?"

Tenma shook his head, chuckling, "Lana, everything needs to be checked and double checked to satisfy a judge. Judges are pretty damn thorough. They need to be in order to get a correct verdict."

The teenager shook her head, "But we already know he did it, otherwise the police wouldn't have arrested the guy, right?"

Tenma looked up, "The police are wrong sometimes. Remember that shootout several months ago between the police and those gangsters? The one that got thirty innocent people killed?" Lana nodded mutely and Tenma chuckled darkly, "You have your hero Gant to thank for that. He's the one who set that up, and the one who had the gangsters to pin it on when things went south..."

Before Lana could reply, the office door opened to admit the current chief of police, "Skye? Good. I was afraid you'd gone home..."

Lana leapt up in exultation, "Does dad have a case?"

The chief looked at Lana with distaste, "Don't bring your children to work, Skye. Not unless they are here to do your paperwork for you."

Tenma immediately stood up straight, "Understood, sir. Do I have a case?"

The chief shook his head, "Nope. Something worse. The guys upstairs have finally noticed that you were transferred to homicide. As such, they are assigning you a prosecutor as a partner for all your cases from now on." Tenma sighed,  
><em>'Prosecutors...Pah!'<br>_"Yeah, I figured that would happen. Who is it?"

The chief looked at the file, "Some German guy..."

Tenma's eyebrow shot up, "I thought von Karma worked with Badd..."

The Chief shook his head, "No, It's some new guy. Freshly transferred from Germany. I guess he requested somebody to go to the airport and help him find his new apartment."

Tenma's expression became annoyed, "I'm not some bellhop. Hire a limo driver to drive him to his place."

The chief shook his head again, "No. I want you to meet the guy, size him up. It'll be a good chance to get to know your new partner." The chief then folded his arms, "And play nice. I don't want a repeat of the incident when you worked with Payne in Traffic."

Tenma gave an evil chuckle while Lana looked up at her father in confusion. "I told you sir, I don't know how he fell down that open drain."

The chief snorted. "Well I don't want a repeat of that kind of ….'accident'. The paperwork took weeks to clear." The chief then sighed while he checked his watch, "Well, his flight lands in about an hour. If you hurry, you should make it in time to meet him before he gets robbed or something..."

Tenma rolled his eyes, "Fine. Whats his name?"

The chief looked back at his file, "Konrad Gavin..."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Damion shut the door behind him. It was dusk, the sun still present enough cast shadows over everything.  
>'<em>Huh. I guess this is the perfect time to meet the abductor of my love and my son...'<em>  
>He halted his thoughts, wanting to be calm. He could not let the fury inside him escape until the right time...<p>

The ex-gangster saw a boat docked that he guessed was the _Lawman's_ _Revenge, _and made his way toward the small gang-plank leading on board. Damion took a moment to look inside the window, and upon seeing nothing, made his way to the deck. Damion climbed the stairs and finally saw Thalassa's and his son's abductor.

Gant grinned, "Ah, Damion! I knew you'd show!" The detective was sitting on a comfortable beach lounger, a glass of iced tea in one hand, "Tea?"

Damion fought down his fury again, and through clenched teeth, said, "No, thank you."

Gant shrugged, "Suit yourself. Anyway, I'm sure you want to get straight to business."

Damion almost lost it, quickly separating the distance between himself and the other man. Just before Damion could get physical, he stopped, just in front of the lounger as Gant waved a small pistol while whistling a warning, "I'm tired of the games and the rest of your bullshit, Gant."

Gant regarded the ex-gangster silently for a moment, then his smile returned, "I suppose that's fair. I want you to do something for me."

Gant got up, and began to stroll around the deck, while Damion watched him from where he stood. Gant took a sip of iced tea and continued, "You see, I've run into something of a dead end in my work at the precinct." He sighed, "Gangs are becoming more and more clever. And more charismatic. Their leaders are _glorious patriots_, attempting to _save the common people_ from the law, and _uphold codes of honor and chivalry _and all that mumbo jumbo."

Damion nodded, "Something that the law is trying to destroy."

Gant shrugged, "I didn't bring you here to argue about that particular topic. As I recall, we've had that argument before."

Damion almost snarled, "Are you giving me a history lesson, or your damned demands?"

Gant chuckled, "Calm down, calm down. Anyway, that disgusting law you talk about is what is hindering me from taking these gangs down. I have too many constraints on me for what needs to be done..."

Damion grimaced, "What needs to be done?"

Gant took another drink of tea, then smiled darkly, "Yes. You see Damion, I want you to find those charismatic leaders... and ensure that they retire. _Permanently_."

Silence engulfed the deck for a moment, then Damion snorted in disgust, "You want me to assassinate gang leaders? That's low, even for you..."

Gant shrugged, his smile turning into a grin, "But you'll do it, won't you? I'd hate for any harm to come to Thalassa, or to that little boy of yours."

Damion almost sobbed then, "Why are you doing this? Neither of them deserve this. Thalassa just wants to be left alone. That's why she ran away from her dad, as for my son... how can you do anything to him? Do you not have any shred of human decency or mercy left inside you to take pity on a baby?"

Gant regarded the ex-gangster silently, his expression pensive, "Probably not. But then, I remember talking about this too, long ago..."

Damion looked at the detective with haunted eyes, "You met him, didn't you? Got to hold him, even for a moment. And you didn't even feel anything? Is there nothing left in that skeptical walnut of a heart you have? You... you..." Damion's eyes lit up as accusation rang through his entire form as he raised both of his arms and grabbed Gant's lapels, dragging the older mans face level with his own, "HE'S YOUR FREAKING GRANDSON, AND YOU DIDN"T FEEL ANYTHING?"

Damon Gant simply looked at his son once more, his face completely blank then said, "Nope."

Damion let go of his fathers lapels, and turned around and stared at the sea. The two stood there for a moment, Damion attempting to process what he had just heard, and Gant sipping iced tea, waiting for his son's answer.

Damion finally turned around, "I'll... I'll do it. You promise that Thalassa and my son will be safe, then I'll do whatever the hell you want."

Gant smiled pleasantly, "Fabulous. I'll give you instructions when I have your first target put together. In the meantime, You should get yourself ready. Buy some equipment, stuff like that." Damion nodded, and without another word, he made his way off the ship.

Gant watched Damion walk to his car, and also watched as he collapsed weeping before he got to it. Twenty years ago, Gant probably would have reacted with guilt toward such a display from someone he knew well. But now, he felt nothing.

Nothing at all...

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Tenma had dropped Lana off at home, then he had proceeded to use his badge to get past airport security. All so he could help some prosecutor find his house. '  
><em>When did I become such a pushover? Two years ago, I'd have just laughed at the chief and said 'to hell with a partner'. Now I'm playing bellhop for him...'<em>  
>The detective glanced once more at the picture of Konrad Gavin. Styled platinum blonde hair, Glasses, calm demeanor.<p>

The man looked like a damn fruit cake.

Tenma's gaze was drawn to the gate, which had just opened, admitting quite a few people into the terminal. After a minute or so, Tenma saw a man in his mid thirties, dressed in a smart 3 piece purple suit, his hair going to his neck, looking like it had been hacked off. He was accompanied by a young boy who was dragging a suitcase, and a car seat where a toddler sat, sleeping.

Tenma walked forward and tipped his hat, "Konrad Gavin?"

Konrad noticed Tenma and smiled pleasantly while scratching the back of his neck nervously, "Ja. That's my name. I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but I wanted to make sure that I found my way home this evening as soon as possible. I do not wish my sons to spend the night in an airport. I have been told that it is not an experience I should have..."

Tenma shrugged, "I suppose nobody can blame you for that." He grabbed the suitcase from the young boy, who was obviously tired, "Take a breather kid. No need to exhaust yourself..."

The boy peered up at Tenma over his glasses, "I'm not exhausted, sir. I may be slightly fatigued, but I am more than capable-"

Konrad glared at his son, "Kristoph, this man is showing you kindness and you are treating him like dirt. I expect better!"

Kristoph looked down, obviously still angry, "My apologies." He said insincerely.

Tenma raised his eyebrow not knowing whether he should be surprised by the kids attitude or his great grasp of English, "Don't worry about it." he mumbled.

Konrad laughed nervously, "I must apologize for my son. He is going through this phase..."

Tenma shrugged, "I know the trouble. My daughter did something similar when she was his age, and I'm sure my four year old will do it too..."

Konrad looked surprised, "You have children?" Tenma glared at him, and he rubbed his neck in embarrassment, "Ah... that didn't come out the way I meant it to sound. I must admit that I am not as good in speaking English as I am German..."

Tenma rolled his eyes, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll get on each others nerves more than once during this partnership..."

Konrad regarded him skeptically, "Wait, prosecutors have partners?"

Tenma snorted, "Yeah, an investigative partner. I'm a detective, and we are going to handle the same cases. I guess it's supposed to foster unity between the precinct and the prosecutors office."

Konrad looked thoughtful, "Hmm, interesting..."

Tenma walked onto the escalator heading down, "It's useless is what it is. I find it's easier to deal with people all the time when you don't see them constantly. Having a partner is just going to make us hate each others guts."

Kristoph walked in between the two men, "My father is a great prosecutor, and so you will find it hard to hate him, Mr... what's your name?"

Tenma looked at the young boy with an amused expression, "Tenma Skye."

Kristoph folded his arms in triumph, "Ha! I've never even heard of you. My father is a world renowned prosecutor, so you will find that working-"

Konrad put a hand over his sons mouth, his eyes behind the shining lenses of his glasses unreadable, "Forgive my son." he says quickly while blushing and smiling nervously. "He talks too much."

Tenma chuckled, "Funny, I said the same thing to my daughter this afternoon."

Konrad looked at the detective in confusion, "You told her that your son talks too much?"

Tenma regarded his new partner for a moment, then sighed, "Forget about it..." Kristoph fought free from his fathers grasp and walked sullenly behind the two men.

After obtaining the Gavin's luggage, Tenma led them outside to his car, "Let's load the bags and get you to your apartment. I want to get home so my wife can yell at me."

Konrad glanced at his new partner, "You... have troubles with your wife?"

Tenma smiled, "Not really. We just always find something to argue about. It's actually one of our favorite forms of entertainment. I like it cause it usually gets her fired up for..." He stopped himself and coughed uncomfortably, "Anyway, lets get you home."

Konrad closed the trunk and looked pensive for a moment, "Home. I thought that home would always mean Germany, but now I found myself in a new world."

Tenma got into the drivers seat, with Konrad sitting next to him. Both Kristoph and the toddler in the back were asleep. Tenma looked at his new partner as he made his way out of the parking lot, "Why did you leave?"

Konrad sighed sadly, "My wife, Heidi, died a couple months ago. So, I came here to start a new life with my boys."

Tenma nodded, "I'm... I'm sorry."

Konrad smiled sadly, "Think nothing of it."

At the next stoplight, Tenma took out a cigarette and was about to light when he caught Konrad's expression of extreme distaste, "Tenma, I would appreciate it if you didn't smoke in front of my children. I want their lungs to actually _work_, you understand."

Tenma sighed, flicked off his lighter and threw the cigarette out the window, "Next you'll be telling me how to do my job."

Konrad's eyebrow shot up, "Hmm, interesting." Tenma glared at his partner, and Konrad chuckled, "Why, Tenma, it is _you_ who tell _me_ how to do _my_ job. Not the other way around. Your work, witnesses, and evidence builds the foundation of my cases. Without them, I would be helpless."

The detective grinned, "So, you're saying that I'm the only reason you succeed?"

Konrad seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded,"Well, Ja. I think that's the case."

Tenma's smile was completely self satisfied, "Gavin, I think we're going to get along splendidly..."

Konrad noticed the smug smile. He looked ahead as a shimmer went over his glasses. "Of course, I do get payed more, get a bigger office and look more handsome, Ja?"

It took all of Konrad's self restraint not to burst out laughing at the instant evil glare he got from Tenma.

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_Kristoph Short Story: Kristoph the Careful Hoarder_

_News Reporter- "...the excavation into the suspects back yard revealed an alarming amount of bodies."  
>Apollo: "Phew...glad that's not in our country. Imagine if they found something like that around here."<br>Kristoph: "Don't worry. I never let the police into my basement."  
>Apollo: "..." <em>

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Authors Notes:

You guys knew this was coming. You knew we were going to make Gant Damion's daddy. At least its all out in the open, now... also, we introduced the father of Kristoph and Klavier: Konrad. Definitely the most unique OC ever created. Totally.

Glad to be passing the reins,  
>Kongu123<p>

*Cracks fingers* Right, guess I'm up. Should be fun and exciting. All of the pieces are set, let's see if I can move them around the table.

Spending far too much time playing Mortal Kombat,  
>Spadework2<p> 


	5. Interlude, What is Family?

Interlude: What is Family?

**Disclaimer: Apollo Justice, Ace Attorney, and all related characters, situations, logos, ect, belong to Capcom. The Original Characters who are portrayed in this fiction are technically intellectual property of Spadework2 and Kongu123.**

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"D-Damon Gant?" Spluttered Apollo in shock, his eyes widening.

Phil looked up at the young attorney his face dimly lit by the cigar hanging loosely from his mouth. He nodded. "Yeah. Ever heard of him?"

"Heard of him?" Apollo chuckled even though there was no humour in the tone. "Yeah you could say that. The corrupt police chief that killed, forged and blackmailed his way to the top..."

Phil smiled a little. "Yep. That sounds like him. The man was a devil in disguise." Phil looked up to the ceiling. "Don't know what happened to him. Apparently he was an honest cop once but something within him snapped. He went bat-shit crazy and nobody had the balls to cross him...well except Damion of course..."

"And...that man is my grandfather?" Apollo said in a quiet voice. Phil's eyes snapped down immediately as he didn't like the tone of the young man's voice. Apollo stood up and slammed his fists on the table in front of him causing Vlad and Jerimiah who were enjoying drinks at the bar to turn round. "No wonder she didn't want to tell me the whole story." Muttered Apollo his voice teeming on the edge of anger "Not only would she have told me my father was a criminal and a murderer, she would have told me that my grandfather was a corrupt, evil, creepy man as well..."

"Oi!" Apollo heard shouted at him. He broke out of his angry trance to see Phil standing up as well and pointing at him. "Don't you dare even compare Damon to your father. They were nothing alike!"

Apollo glared back. "Why the hell do you protect him and Thalassa so much?"

Phil gritted his teeth so hard he nearly chewed his cigar in half. "Because they are my family!" He shouted back causing Apollo to flinch in shock a little. Phil drew a fist to the centre of his chest as he said in a lower tone, "I may not have learnt much in the half a century that my life has been chugging on for," he said while his eyes pierced into Apollo's "but I know it takes more than what type of blood that runs through your veins or what strands of DNA coil around each other to decide who your family are." Phil let the fist on his chest drop to his side. "Your family are the people that don't judge you for what or who you are! They are the people that stick by you through good times or bad! They are the people that you can trust with your life and that love you until the day that you die."  
>Phil shook his head and sighed. "If your not happy that your dad was a 'killer' or a 'criminal' then so be it, I can understand. But, quite frankly, I'm getting sick of your pissy mood since you got here. If you don't want to hear any more than leave."<p>

Apollo stood in silence for a moment and blinked a few times in confusion. His eyes then narrowed and he stepped forward swinging his right arm out in anger. "Well I'm sorry if I don't understand how you feel!" Exclaimed Apollo this time causing Phil to flinch back in shock. Apollo shot his index finger forward at the older man. "I never had the pleasure of experiencing a family as I was thrown into an orphanage as a baby... but I'm sure you know that."  
>Phil's left eye twitched in response as Apollo lowered his digit. "I spent my young life watching as loving foster parents rejected me for 'being too short' or 'for being too loud' or 'for having a wide forehead.' I watched as one by one my friends were adopted and I was left behind feeling unloved and unwanted because, hell, even my real parents didn't want me. When I announced I wanted to follow my idol into becoming a lawyer I was told not to aim so high and 'maybe I should become a plumber or something.' And when I find somebody who believes in me and is willing to push me to follow my dreams and pays for Law school for me, I find out he is a manipulative murderer..."<p>

"Murderer...wait...what?" interrupts Phil but is promptly ignored by Apollo.

"And Finally, when I think I am settled and everything is going all right," continues Apollo cradling his head in the palms of his hands. "I found out that my mother was alive all along, one of the people I have been living with is my sister and the other knew everything all along. Whilst finding out that my father and grandfather were two of the kinds of the people I stood against. All...in a...single night." Apollo looked up again at the baffled looking Phil. "I think I have the right to be pissed."

The two stood in silence after that both not knowing what to say next. Near the bar, Jerimiah turned to Vlad and whispered in his ear. "I know we said earlier that they are nothing alike but right then, was it me, or did Apollo look a lot like..."

Jerimiah's sentence trailed off and Vlad smiled a gentle smile. "Like Damion? Da, indeed."

Apollo, who heard the two conversing turned his head around and gave the two a familiar glare. Both Jerimiah and Vlad both sweated nervously and spun around trying to look like that they were busy doing something else. A light chuckle in front of him drew Apollo's attention back to Phil. "Y'know, they're right. That justified legitimate anger, that fire in your eyes...it was a blast from the past...like being sent back twenty years." Apollo looked confused as Phil's eyes softened. "I'm sorry kiddo." he said taking Apollo by surprise. "I shouldn't have assumed that your life would have been all roses and fun. I guess your old man and mother was right back in the day...I can be stupid sometimes..."

Apollo's head fell for a few seconds. He then looked up with a small smile. "I-I'm sorry too. For being too harsh and angry. A-and for insulting your family..."

Satisfied with burying the hatchet Phil sat back down swiftly followed by Apollo. Phil sighed. "If you ever have any trouble...you're always welcome to join our family." Apollo's mouth fell open but before he could speak, Phil interrupted him. "But remember, you have a family now too. Your mother and your sister. You have a responsibility to take the opportunity to be happy with them and protect them. Agreed?" Apollo nodded. "Promise?" encouraged Phil while outstretching his arm.

Apollo nodded then shook it. "Promise. I'll also promise to try and not destroy your bar again." he said with a smile.

Phil grinned. "This? Damage? Pfft. You haven't seen Vlad trying to dance to Dubstep while hammered. Like a bloody bulldozer."

They both chuckled at this. It seemed a bit forced, but it was an improvement over the heated atmosphere of earlier. After that, Apollo spoke up again. "You're right you know?"  
>"Eh?"<br>"About my family. I finally have one...a mother, a sister...my mentor."

Phil raised an eyebrow. "Your mentor? The manipulative murderer?"

Apollo shook his head. "No. My new mentor. The one that got him arrested...and Gant funnily enough."

Phil froze for a second. "...Phoenix Wright?"

Apollo eyes widened. "You know him?"

Phil nodded as he removed what was left of his cigar out his mouth and blew a smoke cloud into the air "Only by reputation. He was quite big about ten years ago...guess it is a small world." Phil smiled. "Anyway, you ready?"

Apollo arched an eyebrow. "Ready?"

Phil nodded. "The rest of the story."

Apollo's horns drooped. "Oh...yeah...right." He then took a deep breath. He felt a lot calmer than earlier when he came in. More ready. More prepared. "I believe you left off with Damion being blackmailed by Gant." Phil nodded solemnly as a response. "What did he do?"

Phil looked saddened. "His wife was in the hands of his maniac of a father. His newly born son was god knows where. His best friends were beat up and in bad condition and he was short on allies. His options were limited." Phil then stubbed the cigar out dramatically on the table in front of him before staring into the curious young eyes in front of him.

"What would you do?"

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Kristoph the Yoga Instructor. 

Kristoph: "Hey Apollo, want to do some yoga? It's supposed to be super relaxing..."_  
><em>Apollo: "Um... sure... I guess..."_  
><em>Kristoph: "First is the 'Turtle'."_  
><em>Apollo: "The wh- gaaaaaak!"  
>*Kristoph is forcibly twisting Apollo's limbs into the exact shape of a turtle*<em><br>_Kristoph: "Isn't this relaxing?"

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Authors Notes:

Ah a wonderful intermission, where I believe the appropriate thing to say here is: "Let's go out to the lobby! Let's go out to the lobby! Let's go out to the lobby, and get ourselves a treat!"

Anyway leave a review, and get ready for the next chapter, which will begin the main body of the story.

Going back to bed due to receiving this e-mail at 4:30 in the morning,  
>Kongu123<p>

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Woah? 2-3 weeks for a chapter from your favourite (hopefully) crime writing duo? I know, but I've been busy these last few weeks... no really I have. My two weeks Easter holiday was filled with work and on the 20th I celebrated my... er... 20th Birthday. Yay, whoopee to me. Another year down the drain...*grumble*  
>Anyway, a brilliant birthday gift would be a review don't cha think?<br>I hope you all had a happy Easter and I wish all you great readers a brilliant year.

Hoping the next chapter will be written by next week,  
>~ Spadework2<p> 


	6. Waiting For The Dreaded Call

Chapter 5: Waiting for a Dreaded Call.

**Disclaimer: Apollo Justice, Ace Attorney, and all related characters, situations, logos, ect, belong to Capcom. The Original Characters who are portrayed in this fiction are technically intellectual property of Spadework2 and Kongu123.**

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"_We just sat there...waiting. Waiting for your fathers return. Waiting for the news of your mothers whereabouts and any potential demands.  
>However, we never knew the price would inevitably take your fathers life away..."<em>

Freedom Bar.  
>Phil and Jerimiah sat in complete silence at the bar like they had done for the past few hours. There was nothing they could say to each over that could ease the worries that both of them harboured for their brother. 'Would he return?' 'Would he be safe?' and 'What's going to happen next?' were thoughts that both shot through the troubled men's mind almost consistently.<br>No. It was better to sit here at the bar in darkness then both share worries of what might and might not happen.

Neither of them barely moved until the door of the entrance opened. Both men spun round to see dishevelled shadow of a man standing before them. Both Phil and Jerimiah gave each other a worried look saying more to each other than words could ever explain. They then nodded and walked towards the Damion slowly.

"Apollo?" asked Phil gently. "what's going on?"

Damion lifted his head out of the shadows. His face, especially around the eyes were blotchy and red showing that the man had been heavily crying in the last few hours. "Gant." was all his weak voice could say.

"Fuck." Was all Jerimiah said as he shook his head in disgust and walked back towards the bar. Phil closed his eyes in sadness for a few seconds, contemplating what to say. He then opened them along with his mouth.

"What about Thalassa? She safe?"

Damion sniffed and then looked away. "A-alive."

Phil nodded. "And what about the kid?"

Damion placed his hand over his eyes. "B-born..."

Phil gritted his teeth in anger.  
><em>'How can a man do this to another. Especially his own bloody family.'<br>_Phil then shook his head and calmed himself. Anger wouldn't help anyone at the moment, especially his self destructing brother at the moment. If anyone needed to remain calm, it was him. "Okay. That's good. The next obvious question is what are his demands?"

Damion gave an exhausted and upset sigh. He then slowly made his way towards the bar. "H-He told me to wait for a call. Also told me to get tooled up."

"Tooled up?" repeated Jerimiah spinning on his bar stool towards Damion. "What the hell for?"

Damion paused. He debated whether he should tell them the full story of what his... father... wants him to do. "He wants... me to do some jobs." said Damion only telling half the truth. This didn't fool Jerimiah though.

"Ah hell no!" he exclaimed, "There is no way on Earth that you are going on your own to do jobs for that fucked up shit."

Damion shook his head. "I've been told I have to do this alone."

Phil ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. "I don't think doing this alone is such a great idea Damion..."

Damion did nothing for a few seconds before he tilted his head ever so slightly towards Phil and glared at him. "I think you've been enough help today Phil." he said coldly.

Phil shot back in pain then stared at his shoes. He knew what his brother was getting at. It was his responsibility to protect Thal on the way to the hospital. And on that front he screwed up big time.

After realising the reaction he got from Phil, Damion lessened his glare. "Look, I'm sorry guys but these are the demands. If I don't follow them..." an image of Thalassa flashed in his mind, "I don't even want to think what might happen." He then looked into a worried looking Jerimiah's eyes. "Please...can you just get me the equipment."

It didn't take long for Jerimiah to buckle. "Fuck! Okay man, but I'm doing this because you asked me to not because I think it's the best move."

Damion nodded. "Thank you brother."

"What so you need?" asked Jerimiah.

"The usual ammo. I'll also need a bullet proof vest." Damion then looked down at his tatty looking suit. It had been through a lot today. "And some new digs would be welcomed as well. Can you get me that as soon as possible?"

Jerimiah smiled a little. "Does a bear shit in the woods?" Damion nodded then sat down at the bar near the phone staring intently at it. Jerimiah took that as his queue to leave. As he got up, he gave Phil another worried look who just shrugged in response. Phil then sat down next to his younger friend.

They said nothing to each for long time. Phil had to say something to get something off of his chest, however he was worried where it might be headed if he did. Phil took a deep breath then cleared his throat. "I'm...sorry Damion..."

Damion just closed his eyes for a second. "You don't need to-"

"Yes I bloody do Apollo!" shouted Phil while curling his fists in anger. "She was under my protection and I buggered it up. I couldn't protect her."

"Neither could I." said Damion in a monotone voice. "I...should have been there yet I let panic take hold of me and cause me to act stupid." Damion stared intently at the phone again. "There is nothing we can do now but wait."

Phil slumped further downwards and nodded. He then smiled as he turned to Damion. "Vlad's sorry he can't be here by the way."

Damion raised an eyebrow. "Is he all right?"

Phil stroked his chin. "Well, when I left him in the hospital, he was trying to drink the alcohol hand wash, so I think he's fine."

For the first time in what seemed ages, Damion genuinely smiled.

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The next day...  
>The bedside alarm shrilled like a banshee at 5:25 in the morning. An annoyed grunt came from under the duvet followed by a large arm slamming into the top of the infernal machine, with a force that was nearly sufficient to break it. The large man then swung his legs to the side of the bed and yawned.<br>_'This routine...is gonna kill me...' _The half tired befuddled detective thought. He got up and stretched working all the kinks out of his bones. His mind then did it's routine morning status report of his body. He was still tired, he needed food, he needed coffee and that seemingly constant dull ache for the need of nicotine was present. Tenma smiled as he looked at the open packet of cigarettes near the bedside table. At least he was able to satisfy one of those needs right now. He grabbed one of the addictive sticks and placed it between his lips. Now if he could only find his light-

"What do you think you are doing?" said a stern voice from behind him causing him to freeze up. Tenma turned around and looked down at his brown haired, slender beauty of a wife while scratching the back of his head. Her beautiful blue eyes now could burn holes through solid steel with the glare she was producing.

"Well...y'know?" said Tenma pathetically.

"You was going to smoke in this house..."  
>"Well..."<br>"Even though you promised not to do it here in the house..."  
>"I did?"<br>"And not in front of the kids..."  
>"Well they're not in here are they..."<br>"I won't have them pick up your bad habits..."

Tenma rubbed his hands against his face in exasperation. He could never win an argument against her. She was always feisty and full of energy. He wondered if that was what attracted him to her. He removed the cigarette, sliding it back into the pack. "All right Mileena! Fine! It's gone."

His wife smiled up at him. "Thank you."

Tenma sighed. "Yeah, yeah it's fine."

His wife yawned. "Do you really have to go to work?"

The detective nodded. "Yep. Got a new... 'boss' today. Freaking stuck up pansy ass prosecutors really..." He stopped talking when he heard a barely audible snore behind him. He turned around and saw his love had fallen asleep again. "So you woke up just to moan at me?" grumbled Tenma under his breath while stumbling towards the bathroom.

After getting washed and changed, Tenma lazily walked out into the landing. He was about to walk down the stairs when he paused outside of a room. The door to the room where his daughters slept.  
>He placed his hand over the door handle debating whether or not to go in, then deciding against it when the image of an over excitable four year old and a slightly tired and moody teenager being up at the early hours stopped him. Instead, he pressed his ear against the door. The sound of quiet snoring met his ears. He smiled. Times like this he knew he was a lucky man...<br>It was at this moment that he spotted his watch.  
><em>'5:40! Shit! Need to get a move on. Can't be late again.'<em>

Tenma bounded down the stairs and grabbed the keys, badge and gun that were slung lazily on the table the night before. He then checked all his pockets and walked out of the door. He inhaled a deep breath of the cool morning air. "Finally." he said in an almost bliss like state as popped one of his cancer sticks in his mouth and lit it. He stood there taking many deep drags until nothing remained but the butt. He flicked it away and sighed in content.  
><em>'That will tie me down... well until I reach work...'<em>

Realising he was supposed to be in a rush, he then jogged to his car and sat in the drivers seat. He looked at the clock on that dashboard. It was going be close...

"Good morning dad!"

"JESUS WEPT!" Shouted Tenma as he almost jumped out of his skin. He then spun in his seat and saw his eldest smiling like an angel. After calming his heart rate, Tenma scowled. "What the hell are you doing in here Lana?"

Lana scratched the back of her head. "Going to work with you of course."

Tenma shook his head. "Nope. Nah-uh. Your mother would kill me."

"Oh? Well that's a shame," replied Lana. She then leaned forward and went face to face with her father, her smile never faltering. "I wouldn't want to have to say to Mom that I saw you smoking in front of me."

Tenma flinched a little, a momentary tic entering his right eye. "You wouldn't dare..."

Lana tilted her head to the side. "Wouldn't I?"

Tenma's head fell before he spun back around glaring at his steering wheel in deep thought while saying something like 'Just like her damn mother...' under his breath. It took him a while to reply. "How did you find out about that?"

Lana shrugged. "You always said that a good detective should always be aware of their surroundings."

Tenma raised an eyebrow. "I did? I mean... yeah... of course I did." Tenma then smiled to himself. "You may think you can blackmail me, but I wonder how your mother will feel if I take you in now and mention what's been going on hmm?"

Lana smile disappeared as she stroked her chin in deep thought. She then raised a large cup. "I bought you a coffee while waiting."

Tenma spun round again. He looked at his daughter, then the cup, then his daughter again. He smiled a broad smile. "Okay. You win." he said taking the drink while watching his daughters face beam up. "But if your mother asks, you followed me to the station. Deal?"

"Deal." said Lana while nodding. She watched as her father gulped down the satisfying beverage as an evil thought rose into her mind. She smiled. "By the way, as much as I like the fact that you and Mom are still in love with each over after all of these years, can you not express it so loudly at night?"

Tenma began to choke violently on his drink as his daughter rolled around laughing in the back of the car.

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_'Ach...tung...'  
><em>Konrad stared up at the building in awe. Now, he knew this city was filled with some pretty big sky scrapers, but this one took the biscuit. The prosecutors office almost seemed to pierce the clouds. Konrad gulped and re-steadied his reading glasses. "Well... no time like the present." he muttered to himself before walking in. He walked up to the pretty reception lady and flashed a toothy grin. "_Guten Morgen._"He said to her.

The woman seemed to look up from her work with an annoyed look until she saw the man properly. She then blushed a little. "E-er... hello."

Konrad's smile widened a little more. "I've just been transferred here and I believe I need an office."

The woman seemed flustered. "O-oh right. Let me just..." she flicked through some papers on her desk, "What's your name again?"

"Mr Gavin!" screeched an annoying voice interrupting them.

Konrad turned to face where the voice emanated from to see a short old man in a green suit, with the strangest hair Konrad had ever seen. "Yes, that's me."

The man walked up to him and shook his hand. "Prosecutor Payne. Welcome. I've been told to show you your new office."

Konrad smiled and nodded while discreetly wiping his hand on his suit. "Ah, thank you _Herr _Payne. Er... lead the way."

Payne nodded as they made their way to the lift. As they entered, he pressed one of the seemingly infinite amount of buttons. "So, how are you finding the city?"

Konrad raised his head in though a little. "Different." was his answer. Payne nodded.

"I bet. I remember when I moved here. But I think our circumstances are a little different." Payne's glasses shimmered. "To uproot and move from your home country... must have been hard hmm?" asked Payne in a questioning tone.

Konrad didn't even face him. He knew he was trying to dig for information. "I moved here because I have family here. Someone to look after the kids while I work."

"A logical move I suppose?"

Konrad nodded. "Yes."

Payne smiled. "Well I'm glad we have another prosecutor that has experience with the instant trial system."

Konrad raised his eyebrows at this. "Instant trial?"

Payne nodded. "Yes. We're going to have a vote whether to change to it soon. You haven't heard?" Konrad shook his head. "Well it might pass," continued Payne "Tell me, Germany has had it for awhile now, what is your opinion of it?"

Konrad smirked. "Well I think..."

"I think it's a great idea," interrupted Payne causing Konrad to sigh. This guy liked the sound of his own voice... well somebody had to. "It would help clear the backlog of cases and put away more of the scum..."

Konrad at this point zoned out for his own sanity's sake instead choosing to watch the lights on the floor display slowly go up. It was at some point that he realised that Payne was asking him something. "Hmm...Sorry?"

"I was asking if you knew what detective you've been assigned."

"Oh?" said Konrad while scratching the back of his head nervously. "I think it was a... _Detektiv _Skye."

Payne froze up. "D-Detective Skye you say?"

Konrad noticed his sudden his sudden change. "You ok-"

"I'm fine!" shouted Payne a little to loudly. Just then the lift doors opened. Payne then pointed down the hall and literally pushed Konrad out. "Your office is down the hall," he said quickly. "Last one, can't miss it. Any questions?"

Konrad looked confused. "Well... yes... er."

Payne didn't notice. "No? Good. Well see ya!" he said as the lift doors closed. Konrad blinked in confusion.

"Well... that was weird..." he mumbled to himself. He then proceeded down to his new office. Konrad opened it and was blown away. It was large and well decorated. Better then anything he had in Germany. He threw his briefcase down near the door and sat down on the large chair. He checked the drawers then drummed his fingers on the table. Several minutes passed in complete silence. "Well, this is exciting." said Konrad to himself sarcastically.

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The chief did not look happy. "Tenma!" he shouted when he saw the detective trying to sneak in. "You're late. Again." He then looked at the girl with him. "And you brought your daughter. Again."

Tenma ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry sir but..."

The chief waved his hand silencing the detective. "If it was up to me, I would be cutting your pay and reprimanding you."

Tenma scratched the back of his neck. "I know sir but..." then Tenma and Lana raised their eyebrows at the same time. "Up to you sir? What do..." Tenma's eyes narrowed. "Oh no." he said while the chief smiled.

Lana looked up to her distressed father. "What's up dad?"

Tenma ignored her and looked up at the chief. "He's here isn't he." He nodded. "Where?" The chief thumbed the direction towards Tenma's office. Tenma walked towards it with his confused daughter in toe. What he saw annoyed him even more. A group of female officers was gathered around a certain blonde figure near his office door causing Tenma's blood pressure to rise.

"And I was like _'Einspruch!' _and I raised my finger out as far as possible." said Konrad while imitating said action.

The girls gasped. "What happened then?" asked one.

"Well," started Konrad until he saw the detective above the group. "Ah, Detektiv Skye. So glad you made it." He then turned to the girls and winked at them. "I see you later ladies, I have work to do." The group nodded then walked away chatting to each other.

Tenma glared at the going group.  
>'<em>And I thought my coworkers were professional...'<em>,  
>He then followed up with a glare at the prosecutor. "What are you doing here?"<p>

Konrad looked confused. "We are partners, are we not?"

Tenma's eye twitched. "True, but don't you have a fancy office in the prosecutors office?"

Konrad shrugged. "Well yes. But that place is how you say... boring. Here is where the heart of all the operations is at."

Konrad then noticed the blushing young girl near Tenma. He got on one knee so he was face to face with her. "Hi _Fräulein. _What's your name?"

Lana blushed even more. "L-Lana Skye."

Tenma looked down in confusion as one word filled his mind.  
><em>'No!'<em>

Konrad grabbed her hand and gently kissed it. He then smiled. "Prosecutor Konrad Gavin." He then stood up and met the death glare of Tenma. "Your daughter is very nice."

"If your lips touch her again, I'll rip your face off." Said Tenma in a serious tone.

Konrad just smiled and shrugged it off, confusing Tenma even further. "How lovely. Should we enter then?" motioned Konrad towards the office. Tenma stormed after him.

The chief who with the other officers watched the exchange in interest turned to his work colleagues. "Plug you ears." he warned.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY OFFICE!" Shouted Tenma.

Back in the office, Lana looked up to her dumbstruck father. "I think he cleaned up."

The office was indeed cleaner than how he left it. So was the desk which was as shiny as it could have possibly been.

Tenma glared at the German sitting behind the desk, his fingers curling with the desire to strangle his new partner. "I'm going to gut you..."

"As you can see I have cleared out some things. Sorted some things into appropriate files."

"...hang your intestines out of the window."

Konrad smiled. "I also did all of your paperwork."

Tenma was taken aback and shook out of his violent ramblings. "Er...y'did? Thanks I guess..."

Konrad leaned on the desk and rested his chin on his hand. "Well you were..." he checked his watch, "twenty minutes late so I had to do something. Oh, I'll have to deduct that from your pay by the way."

Tenma was shocked into silence again as Lana spoke up. "Wow, you can do that?"

Konrad leant back. "Article 26 of Police/Prosecutor Partner Act - A leading prosecutor has control over the wage of their Detective subordinates."

"Subordinates..." Tenma spat out. "You still haven't explained why you are here."

Konrad just grinned again. ""Article 10- Prosecutors have the same amount of rights to investigate a crime scene as an on scene detective."

"Woah. Prosecutors sure have a lot of power." said Lana with a twinkle in her eye.

Tenma shook his head. "What kind of prosecutor actually likes investigating crime scenes." He looked up at Konrad who only chuckled. Tenma groaned. "I need a cigarette." He searched his jacket but only found an empty packet. He then looked on top of the desk. "Where the packet I left there?"

Konrad looked confused for a moment. "Oh, that. I threw it out. Smoking is a disgusting habit." Konrad then looked up at the detective who had a vein throbbing out of his head. Konrad sweated slightly. "You're going to hit me now, aren't you?"

The chief was helping a colleague on his computer when it happened. The officers all poked their heads up when they saw Prosecutor Gavin running out giggling like a school boy. The chief still didn't turn around when he heard Tenma bounding after him, "Get back here Gavin! I'm going shove my foot so far up your ass it'll come out your mouth..."

"Chief Sapphire?"

He sighed. "What is it Ms Skye?"

Lana folded her arms. "Will... those two be okay."

"Hn." He said while a small smirk appeared on his face. "I'm sure those two will get on just fine."

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Damion woke up with a jolt when the phone rang. He looked to his left and saw a completely comatose Phil snoring. To his right was the equipment that he asked Jerimiah to get. He looked at the phone, worried about picking it up. Then, slowly and gingerly, he picked it up and held it to his ear.  
>"H-Hello..."<br>_"Damion my son, my boy. Ready to save the lives of your loved ones?"_

Damion tightened his grip on the phone. "What do you need me to do?"

"_First, let's lay some ground rules." _The cheerful voice disappeared. _"You screw me, you contact the police, you try and look for them, your family dies. You do anything other than what I say, your family dies. If you bring any friends or contact any friends, your family dies. Make myself clear?"_

Damion closed his eyes and said nothing for a few seconds. "Crystal."

"_Good" _Came the returning upbeat voice. _"Here's what I want you to do..."_

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><em><span>Kristoph Short: No man is truly innocent.<span>_  
>Phoenix: *Walks out of sex shop with bag under arm*<br>Kristoph: *Walks out of alley near shop wiping blood off his hands. bumps into Phoenix.*  
>Phoenix: *Drops bag full of 'questionable' magazines*<br>*Both stare at each other and blink*  
>Both: "I didn't see nothing!"<p>

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Author's Notes.

Ah, right. I'm supposed to write something. Some words of wisdom... Don't shoot the messenger? Anyway, hope you're enjoying this exciting story which has been dominated by OC's. Hope you're enjoying the fine work by my man (a.k.a. Platonic friend), spadework2.

Howling in anguish at the s's that are supposed to be z's,  
>~ Kongu123<p>

It's good to be writing again. Had a lot on my plate though this week though. My grandad was put into hospital for the weekend. He's fine now but... I guess y'know what it's like.  
>In other news, check out 'Operation Objection.' It's a group trying to get Gyakuten Kenji 2 localised.<br>(See, localised not localized, it's supposed to be a bloody s and it's staying that way. :D)

Glad to be writing again,  
>~ Spadework2<p> 


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